Harry Potter and the Fifth House
by Dianne
Summary: They say your life flashes before you as you die. Harry is attacked by Voldemort in summer. Snape can't or won't get wizarding medical help for him!
1. Default Chapter

This is not for profit, only fun. I admire J.K. Rowling's works and thought it would be fun to try my hand at Harry's sixth year.

A/N Here it is, Harry's sixth year. The story is complete and starts to improve in action and interest at about chapter three, so please bear with me? I will update every week or twice weekly, so the story will not just peter out like some do. Please read and review with respect.

Update 2012 - this piece was written years ago when I first started writing again after being out of school for over twenty years. You know the saying 'use it or lose it'? Well, yeah, I'd lost it, spelling, grammar, the whole works. I learned much since I wrote this but for now, I don't have time to go back and fix it but I'm leaving it up; it's a victory for me of sorts, I stuck with it and a few people liked it well enough while others didn't. It's all good. One day I hope to have time to go back and fix this story up, it still has a special place in my heart even though I cringe when I see mistakes that I wouldn't make now in my writing. It was a learning process and such fun to write. So much has changed since I wrote this story, it's mind boggling. I haven't written a Harry Potter story in years but I wish all writers and readers joy in their pursuits. J.K. Rowling has certainly given us a gift.

Harry Potter And The Fifth House

Book six

By Dianne

They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die. Harry lay, taking his last few breaths as the rain pounded his lifeless body. He knew he must be near the end, because his mind had already gone over most of the last sixteen years of his tortured life and now the last four weeks had begun to play like a tape in his mind. He tried in vain to figure out what mistakes he had made to lead him to the last days of his life, for the boy could always find a way to blame himself for everything that happened to him...and others... "Sirius..." he moaned softly as he thought back to the beginning of the summer, which had started with his mourning the death of his Godfather Sirius Black and had seemingly ended that horrific July night with his own death.

One month earlier:

Things were far from normal at number four Privet Drive, now that a sixteen-year-old boy named Harry Potter, had once again been forced to live with the occupants of this house. Harry's relative's, Aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon and their own sixteen-year-old son Dudley, dreaded the summer months, which brought with them an unwilling and unwelcome house guest.

Even though the Dursleys knew that Harry must spend a certain number of days with them for his own protection, it didn't make their disposition any more welcoming. On the contrary, the threat from Sirius Black (Harry's late godfather) to Aunt Petunia to keep Harry as a resident of her home, only made living there more terrible.

Aunt Petunia, who was usually outspoken and well dressed, seemed almost sulky and unkempt. She seemed to be walking on eggshells around Uncle Vernon, while being especially doting on Dudley and more venomous toward Harry than ever before. She cast him a furtive look across the kitchen table, as if she thought that at any moment he might explode.

Harry stared at his plate, which for the first time in two years at the Dursley's house was full of normal food, not that healthy rabbit food as Uncle Vernon had called it. Aunt Petunia had been cooking meals like they were going to be the last meal the family ever ate, and even though Harry Potter had no appetite just now, the irony of the situation never escaped him.

Yes, Aunt Petunia knew that Lord Voldemort had returned and could no longer pretend that her sister Lily had never been a witch who attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, nor could she force Harry to tell a lie that he had not believed since he was eleven, when he was told the truth about his parents. James and Lily Potter had not died in a car crash when Harry was one year old. No, James and Lily Potter had been killed because they had refused to join the dark Lord Voldemort.

Aunt Petunia had had to come clean to Uncle Vernon, whom all these years had believed that his upstanding, normal, spic and span wife, in fact knew much more about the wizarding world than she had ever spoken of, even to her so called respectable husband Vernon. Harry had thought Aunt Petunia was oblivious to anything magic, as even the word itself was loathingly referred to in the Dursley household as the "M" word, and was punishable by anything from extra chores to lockup for even saying it.

The state of shock and mourning that Harry was in, over the death of his Godfather Sirius Black, ranged from grumpy silence to fits of rage. It was the rage that Harry was most frightened of, for at times he could not distinguish whether the rage was his own or the rage of Lord Voldemort over having lost a weapon he so desperately needed to take over the wizarding world. Harry had placated himself that his anger was all his own, reasoning that the scar on his forehead which he had received from Voldemort on the day his parents had been killed, hadn't so much as stung since his return to Privet drive. Harry had been able to feel, or was forced to feel Voldemort's strongest emotions since the last school year so strongly that at times he thought he was going mad._ Well_, Harry thought, I_'ve either mastered this connection or Voldemort is too far away..._

Even with this false reassurance from himself, Harry felt no better. After all, no one in the wizarding world had even sent him a sympathy card, let alone given him advice on how to deal with his feelings over the recent murder of his Godfather. Harry tried to persuade himself that Ron and Hermione, his two best friends, were just busy. It was amazing to Harry how things went back to normal after a death, except for people or rather person; Harry being Sirius's only heir, and the only person who was outwardly mourning his death. Life couldn't get much worse. The only contact Harry had with the wizarding world, was receiving his copy of the Daily Prophet (the wizarding world's largest newspaper).

The cold callous obituary was complete with a moving picture of Sirius Black at his most scruffy time. The picture, looking sad and haunted, was entitled,_ Sirius Black, Captured and Killed in Uproar at Ministry of Magic._ Harry gritted his teeth and fury overtook him. Dumbledore should have seen to it that Sirius had a funeral fit for a King, and that he was at last revealed as the hero he was and not the mass murderer he was painted as, and had been sent to Azkaban prison for without a trial.

Harry always felt extremely young when he was referred to as _The Boy Who Lived,_ in newspaper articles. Very young, and more than ever, very alone, for the last hope for having a home where he was loved and cared for was now gone. "I'm sixteen soon, I don't need a home now," he lied to himself. Harry had resisted crying outwardly since he was a child, since it was never met with a gentle hand or loving reassurance. Harry felt hot tears falling down his cheeks, though his face bore no expression. His chest was heaving and he could feel the blood pumping in his temples. His jaws had been clamped so tight that his teeth hurt. Harry opened his bedroom window and tried to gulp in some air, but it had been so hot and dry in Little Whinging, that the air seemed devoid of oxygen. Forcing himself to calm down, it suddenly struck Harry that Aunt Petunia owed him an explanation as to how she came to know Sirius Black and all about Dementors and whatever else she knew about the wizarding world. But Aunt Petunia had flatly refused to speak of such abominations as magic, even though Harry had begged her time again to tell him more of his family history.

Now one of the people Harry most despised, Professor Severus Snape, Potions master at Hogwarts, came to mind. What Harry would do if he could get his hands on a vial of veratiserum (truth serum) that Snape had used in Harry's presence and had threatened him with on several occasions. Knowing that he could not obtain veratiserum, Harry devised a plan using the closest thing he could get without using magic, alcohol. Aunt Petunia had been drinking rather a lot more alcohol than Harry had ever seen her consume. In her so called blissfully ignorant days of entertaining Vernon's drill business clients, she would daintily sip on an ounce of Sherry for an hour. Now however, there were empty wine bottles littering the cupboard under the stairs, which used to serve as Harry's bedroom. True, the house was still surgically clean, but the alcohol had wreaked havoc on Aunt Petunia's usual neat appearance. Firstly, she had gained weight from the overindulgence of alcohol, leaving Harry to guess that all of Dudley's obesity hadn't necessarily come from Vernon's side of the family. Secondly, because she did not hold her liquor well, she could frequently be found napping in unladylike slouches, muttering nonsense mixed with just enough key words ordinary muggles wouldn't use, to make Harry even more intrigued to get inside his aunt's head.

The plan to get Aunt Petunia drunk to make her talk, was going exceedingly well. Two more glasses of wine past her usual after dinner five glasses and Aunt Petunia was as loose as a goose. "Why are you offering to bring me my wine?" she slurred "You've never lifted a finger in this house, after we have given you the food off our table..."

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah" Harry thought to himself, having heard this brandishment every day of his life at Privet Drive. "Just get to it," he thought desperately, looking at his watch. Uncle Vernon would be home from his golf game any time, and Harry's inquisition would be over before it even began.

"Potter!" muttered Petunia, her horse face contorting as though saying the name was like uttering a swear word.

"Yes ma'am,' gritted Harry trying to sound cordial.

"No not you boy." She slammed down her glass pointing her finger at him, "Your father James." This was the first time she had referred to Harry's father as anything but "that Potter" or "that strange boy." This made Harry snap to and pay close attention to Aunt Petunia's strained voice for the first time since she had come clean about how and why Harry's parents had died.

"Oh, little Jamie, come to ask for Lily's hand," simpered Aunt Petunia, drowsily getting to a point Harry feared would never come. "Well Petunia, guess that leaves you an old maid... Your father thought he was so big, so special, so..." She seemed to nod off for a moment. This wasn't the first time Harry had been ashamed to find that his father could be a little more than callous to people. He had seen in a pensieve, James's unwarranted cruel behaviour to a certain now professor Severus Snape while they were still students at Hogwarts, but Harry had heard nothing but praise for his father. He had thought James would have grown out of strutting around like a peacock, by the time he was out of Hogwarts.

He was disheartened only for a moment over his father's bad behaviour, for when he looked back at Petunia she looked back at him, apparently out of her little drunken nod and said, " Oh I do love you Harry," which is something Harry knew was what a drunk person would say to a cold bathroom floor. He forced his revulsion at her words, the only time she had ever spoken them, back down to the pit of his stomach. The shock at hearing " I love you," even on a drunken pretense, had made Harry realize that no one had ever said those three words to him in fifteen years, and the only time he had ever heard them in his life had been before he was one year old. Aunt Petunia had nodded again, leaving Harry with what he knew was a futile effort to remember his mom or dad saying, " I love you." He was so intent upon his quest for a memory, he fancied he saw his parents face looking down on him and saying , "I love you, little one." Harry must have nodded as well in the stifling heat of the close sitting room. He was startled awake by what started as another, " I love you" moment. This time his mother's face swam before his baby eyes "I love you forever, Harry." She kissed his forehead where his scar, which today marked an otherwise smooth face, had been so cruelly marked upon him after her death. She looked scared, but earnest. She uttered some words of which Harry understood just one, "Petunia," than there was a blast of green light and Harry woke up with a start, hardly remembering at all why he was here with Aunt Petunia alone.

His head too full to continue his interrogation, Harry stumbled upstairs and fell onto his bed, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling just as Uncle Vernon thumped heavily into the house, sweating profusely under the weight of his golf bag. Leaving Harry with no time to himself for his thoughts or pursuits, seemed to be Uncle Vernon's mission in life lately. "Boy," he bellowed up the stairs, "come put my golf things away." Uncle Vernon's disposition seemed to indicate he had done poorly today.

As Harry descended the stairs, he looked at his fat purple faced uncle, who was in turn looking at Aunt Petunia with something between pity and annoyance. When he saw Harry, he looked at his watch and said, "she's usually not this far in the bag until ten." He narrowed his piggy eyes at Harry. "What did you do, boy? You haven't been pestering her with questions again, have you? I forbid you," he hissed, " to ask her any questions about your...your abnormality... Things were fine before you brought those people into her life. We might have to keep you here, but I will not tolerate..."

"So Vernon," said Harry, leaving out the uncle title, "did you know about the wizard ties to Petunia's family," he went on, leaving out the aunt title. Harry was feeling recklessly blunt now. "Maybe she wouldn't get tanked every night if you took your head out of the sand pit at the golf and country club, (where the Dursleys were still respected members,) and listened to her, instead of keeping up appearances." Harry didn't want to sound like he was defending Aunt Petunia, there just wasn't any other way to say it. Besides, if she was allowed to spill the beans, Harry could use Fred and George's ear device ( without using underage magic, ) to eavesdrop, since he had failed to extract information from Aunt Petunia spectactularly.

Harry tried to put on his best helpful tone in what he said next. "Aunt Petunia," he put the Aunt title back in, "can't go to a Psychiatrist. Most of them belong to Grunnings Golf and Country Club. How would it sound when Dr. so and so goes and tells his high society, bridge club attending wife, that poor Petunia Dursley finally lost it?" Uncle Vernon Knew how fast juicy tidbits spread among the socially elite people, some of whom were Grunnings clients.

Uncle Vernon surveyed Harry with a mix of apprehension and looked about to ask Harry something. " No," he said at last, when I married Petunia, we agreed to forget about this magic nonsense." His mouth spat out the word magic like it was as disgusting as a dung bomb.

"Well," pressed Harry, "it's only a matter of time before she drinks too much at the lady's garden party." Harry held up the invitation, embossed in gold and pink and addressed to Mrs Petunia Dursley. The R.S.V.P. card had already been torn and sent off. "Mailed it myself," Harry taunted him, " I believe she stated her intention to attend. Said something about it being good to get out of the house and socialize and maybe have some lovely cocktails." Harry only half lied, for Aunt Petunia, upon ordering him to deliver the reply card, had also used it as an opportunity to insult him again. "At least I'll get out of this house and away from you," she had scowled at him.

Harry knew Uncle Vernon had been lying about playing golf. Vernon Dursley had no more interest in any sport, than Harry had in being friends with Dudley. Using this information, he told Uncle Vernon, quite truthfully, that in addition to attending a gossipy tea party, she was going to invite all of Uncle Vernon's best clients over for dinner and a round of drinks.

It had been three months since Vernon Dursley had entertained a client in his home, owing largely to the fact that Petunia had ended up losing him a very large order of drills, after she sat on the lap of one Samuel J. M.M.. Lougheed the third, while his glowering wife stared in disgust. All the while she was singing a muggle song about a ship called Britannia.

Uncle Vernon looked utterly speechless. Harry guessed he had pushed the right buttons to get Uncle Vernon to question Aunt Petunia when she sobered up. He guessed this because as he nodded his head and tweaked his moustache, he hoisted his golf bag (which contained only putters, to Harry's amusement) and put it away himself.

Harry set up Fred and Georges's "magic ears" and settled himself uncomfortably at "Dudley's old desk , which scraped his knees as he slid the chair in, owing to the fact that the desk had belonged to Dudley at the age of ten. Everything Harry had at the Dursley's were hand-me-downs from Dudley and had been well ruined. Having received no summer homework, Harry sat with his chin resting on his left hand and a quill in his right, not wanting to miss one word of what he wanted to hear. He guessed correctly that Uncle Vernon was terrified of Petunia's giving up their long held secret about there being witches in the family, and would try to coerce her to talk to him, rather than her gossipy friends at the bridge club, and he would get his family history at last, or at least more of it than he knew at the present.

"Um, Petunia dear," Uncle Vernon paused, as he passed her a hot cup of tea in a fussy china mug. Uncle Vernon had never waited on Aunt Petunia before. "I know when we married and I caught you in that unfortunate position," he went on, offering a tray of biscuits he had made himself.

This change in Uncle Vernon's demeanor didn't escape even the bleary eyed Aunt Petunia, who with a most unladylike belch, sat upright out of her slouch. " Oh Vernon!" she wailed, " you promised!"

"Yes, but now dear, it might help you feel better if you explained why you feel the absolute need to distance yourself from your family." He stopped as she shot him an angry look.. " Of course I completely agree that they were freaks," he added to placate her. He despised the memory of his former in-laws as much if not more than she ever had, though he couldn't quite remember why, apart from the fact that Lily had been a witch. Uncle Vernon kept his voice light and reassuring and tried to agree with everything Aunt Petunia was telling him, but to no avail.

"How could you!" she screamed, hurrying off upstairs and slamming the bedroom door. Harry wouldn't need Fred and George's invention now, as what was about to be said, was going to be dragged out and yelled through the thin walls at number four Privet Drive, and Harry didn't wonder if it was to be heard throughout the attatched dwelling complex.

Harry, although he had his ear pressed to his bedroom door, caught a glimpse of number seven's house lights come on as if the neighbours were looking out to see what the normally quiet street's disturbance was.

Aunt Petunia would not to speak him, so Uncle Vernon's tone became one of first frustration, than anger, to a direct order. "You will tell me now Petunia Evans!" followed by complete silence, than at last a heaving Aunt Petunia found her voice. If Harry had not heard Aunt Petunia's name, he would have sworn that Uncle Vernon had been addressing him.

"The only reason I married you, Dursley, was to forsake the name of Evans forever as soon as possible!"

"Now Petunia, you don't mean that." Uncle Vernon sounded like someone had let the wind out of his sails.

"Oh Vernon, I'm so ashamed! When Lily came for summer holidays from that school of hers, she had a fascinating potions book in her trunk. I fancied you so much, so tall, so strong, so handsome in your Smelting's uniform..." Harry thought he was going to be sick. "But you never noticed me. You always paid attention to the...ehm, fuller bodied girls. I tried to follow the directions from the book. I...uh...borrowed Lily's wand, cauldron, and potions bag, to, you know -enlarge certain inadequacies, so you would look at me in the way you looked at those other girls. Oh Vernon it was awful! Lily found out and she, well she, for lack of a better word enhanced certain parts of me. I couldn't fit my blouses. I fell over forward. I was humiliated!" She caught her breath and went on. "And do you know what my parents did? Nothing! They said Lily had been punished enough by having received a warning about underage wizardry from some crackpot Ministry for Magic, and what was worse? Lily pretended not to know the counter curse, so these people from the Ministry of Magic showed up to-to, uh shrink things. When they arrived, they all had a good laugh about it and I heard that Lily could merely have uttered 'reducto' and I would have been back to normal. That Hog Warts was more important to her than her own sister. As amusing as all this was including the Hog Warts that Harry hadn't found amusing until now, it wasn't enlightening him in the slightest. Harry couldn't imagine this one little fight separating two sisters forever, but Petunia was proud and obstinate and although Lily had, according to Petunia apologized many times, Petunia had never accepted.

"I promised myself," Aunt Petunia continued, " that I would never do or say anything about magic ever again, but on Lily's second vacation and you still ignoring me completely... Oh she was so popular even with our kind. When she went out, I took her things again. I opened the chapter on Love Potions . I mixed everything right you know..." She trailed off as if all these years later she was still trying to figure out what went wrong. "Oh promise me you won't hate me Vernon." She actually sounded scared.

"Go on, Petunia dear." Harry couldn't tell whether Uncle Vernon was concealing anger or simply being patient. He had been fooled before.

"So," Petunia said, plucking up her courage, "I gave you a teaspoon, just a teaspoon, Vernon..." she trailed off. You took my shoes off and started kissing my feet and when my mother came into the room, you did the same thing to her. You didn't know what you were doing. Naturally, when my father came home and you challenged him to a duel with your smeltings stick for his wife and daughter's hand in marriage, he promptly hit you once and you fell like a sack of bricks."

"I only did it because I loved you, so to prove my love, I confessed to having made a potion, but Lily got another letter from the underage wizardry whatchymacallums and those reversal nutters came to the house again. They did some memory work on you. They said something about the pot I mixed the ingredients in not being thick enough."

'So cauldron thickness does matter,' Harry thought, jotting it down to amuse Ron and Hermione. Than during a fleeting moment, he thought he couldn't wait to tell Sirius...somehow as amusing as all this was, Harry was lapsing into grief again.

"Once again, I got all the blame." Aunt Petunia sounded falsely accused. Mommy and daddy grounded me and forbade me to leave the house for a month. You were finally attracted to me once you found out I was grounded-a dangerous woman." Aunt Petunia made what she thought must have been a seductive tiger growl. "Even though you couldn't remember why after your...uh...unfortunate alteration." (One of the wizards from the magical reversal squad, had sprouted Vernon a cheesy moustache which he wore to this day, thinking it quite dashing.)Vernon would never know that the moustache had been added to cheer Lily up about her second warning.

"You came to my bedroom window every night with the Smeltings choir and only left when daddy got out his rifle..." she recalled dreamily. Uncle Vernon seemed not to have heard anything since the two little words 'love potion' had been uttered. He had been strangely silent.

"So!" he bellowed, apparently not to have taken to heart the fact that the love potion had failed utterly. "I'm married to one of those...one of those..." Harry could almost hear Uncle Vernon's temples pounding. In his frustration, Uncle Vernon had clumsily grabbed his golf bag and stomped down the stairs and out the door, driving away rather faster than keeping up appearances of normality would allow.

Harry was taken aback by all that had transpired, but it was nothing compared to what would happen next. Aunt Petunia was sobbing and calling him to her room. He had never even peered in there before, let alone been invited into Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's room before, in fact , he had been downright forbidden.

Harry swallowed hard, remembering Dumbledore's words. He needed to be welcome under this roof at all costs, the main one being his very life, for it was the one place where dwelt the only living person who shared the same blood as his mother. It was this very blood that Harry realized must have been part of the protection incantation his mother had uttered in his daydream when she had told him that she loved him so desperately. Although not happy here, Voldemort could not touch Harry while he lived at number four Privet Drive. The protective virtue although not as strong as it had been all these years in Privet Drive, still held some virtue. The blood that Voldemort had obtained from Harry could not completely erase the protective charm, much to the Dark Lord's fury.

Harry had no intentions of comforting Aunt Petunia, nor did she want him to. When he entered, she seemed to be back to her stiff upper lipped routine of days gone by. "Sit down Harry." She gestured to a chair, but when he sat down and she did not, he stood back up again, not wanting to be in a submissive position. No, those days were gone, now he was growing up and he was going to defend himself. "Harry," Petunia said calmly.

"Oh great here it comes. This is all your fault boy. If it wasn't for you, we'd be holidaying in Majorca by now." Harry thought and he readied himself for something like this, but it turned out he did not have to defend himself this time.

"Harry dear." She was actually sounding like Mrs. Weasley . "How long has Uncle Vernon been having an affair?" Harry didn't know whether to laugh or bite his tongue as he thought of a reply that would at least resemble the truth and wouldn't get him kicked out. All the while she surveyed his face, trying to discern an answer from his expression. Harry wanted to be blunt and tell her that Uncle Vernon wasn't having an affair, but was entertaining clients in the high class pubs and restaurants so he wouldn't have to bring them home to number four Privet Drive, dwelling of the 'homewrecker,' as the wife of one Uncle Vernon's most important clients called it.

What was even more hilarious to Harry was picturing Uncle Vernon with another woman, after all 'I ask you' Harry thought to himself, what kind of woman in her right mind would attach herself to that jowl jawed, foul tempered oaf. And that moustache! Harry chuckled despite himself, remembering the wizard who had apparently given it to him to be funny.

Aunt Petunia did not like to be corrected. She would rather believe that Uncle Vernon was having an affair than blame her unladylike behaviour for his long absences of late. Harry didn't dare contradict her, but he prided himself on not telling lies, plus there was the fact that she would make his life more hellish than it already was if he did. And than it happened. Harry was granted unprecedented freedom, in the form of a bribe of course, but he thought to take it rather than leave it.

"Of course, Harry, with our social standing, I couldn't possibly hire a private detective, and my poor innocent sweet Dudley must know nothing of this. Why, I already had to increase his allowance and buy him more presents to compensate for his father's lack of attention." Harry had to close his eyes and pretend to have dust in them so as not to disparage her ickle Diddydums in from of Aunt Petunia. "That of course leaves you. You will follow Uncle Vernon night and day. I will give you train fare to follow him into work..." seizing his opportunity, Harry asked hopefully . "Can I have some money to buy lunch and sodas in town?"

"Certainly not." Aunt Petunia snapped. You will take a bag lunch." Harry's hopes deflated. He had never had muggle money for his own and although fairly well to do in the wizarding world, Harry had never been dressed, nourished or properly supplied for in the muggle world. Harry had to think quickly. Putting on his most sensible and reasoning voice, he said, "Aunt Petunia, I could do this for you, but you know if Uncle Vernon goes for lunch or cocktails I couldn't follow him into one of the expensive establishments without cash. I'd need money so as to be considered a customer and not be kicked out for loitering."

Aunt Petunia spluttered, "but, but," than finally pried her purse open, extracting her wallet with her still bony fingers. She looked pained as she took out five pounds. She was quickly snapping it shut when Harry cleared his throat loudly indicating that this was not going to be enough. "It's going to cost a slight bit more for me to be allowed into those fancy places Uncle Vernon frequents. Harry knew this because he had been left in the car with a cold sandwich while the Dursleys had dined out on many occasions.

Aunt Petunia was full of surprises. She ordered Harry to leave the room, but Harry made sure to leave a space to peer through the door. Aunt Petunia lifted up the expensive wool handwoven area rug in the middle of the floor and Harry's jaw dropped as she pried up a loose floor board. Harry was not the only one with a secret hiding place. An envelope with the words 'Petunia's mad money' written on it was drawn out. Harry was stuck between amazement and confusion as to the utter stupidity of such a label, but Aunt Petunia had always been obsessive compulsive about everything in it's place and a place for everything. Harry was elated, when with a disapproving look at him, she handed him more money than he'd ever had in his muggle life. "You are such a slovenly pale faced boy. These clothes.." she clucked as if the baggy worn clothes were his fault, "are completely inappropriate for this task."

'Well duh,' thought Harry. Even Dudley's clothing from three years ago did not fit properly. He had been given a sizeable amount of money to buy some 'acceptable clothing.' Aunt Petunia had been sure to add that he wouldn't look good in anything anyway, just to spoil his anticipation of shopping on his own for once in the muggle streets of London with money to actually buy stuff.

Uncle Vernon had thumped upstairs at almost three a.m., waking the entire household. No one seemed brave enough to complain, even Dudley who at this age would still throw temper tantrums and take the day off school, complaining of fatigue after being awoken at these hours.

The next morning at 7:00 am sharp, Harry was woken up by Aunt Petunia's impetulant pounding on the door as though he should been up hours ago. Dudley opened his bedroom door and glared at her and she hastily consoled him with a promise of a full English breakfast in bed for the sheer inconvenience of it all.

Harry was hurried out the door still buttoning his shirt, without so much as a glass of juice. Aunt Petunia had shoved a journal and pen into his hands and ushered him out the door. Of course Harry had no intention of following Uncle Vernon around all day. He knew perfectly well that Uncle Vernon was only doing Business. Just to make it seem like some footwork had been done, Harry decided he would at least, eat at the same establishments as Uncle Vernon.

Harry arrived in London, and had some time to kill until noon when, he, that no good for nothing boy, would be dining at the Pomme de Terre. Harry chuckled to himself wondering why people always thought places withe French names were always classy, after all in English, the restaurant's name was simply, "The Potato".

As he walked along looking for a suitable place to buy himself his "incognito" clothing, Harry had a pang of guilt that made him think of his criticisms of a few days past that people go on with their lives quickly after a death. His grief returned to him as if had never left. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn there was a Dementor nearby, sucking all the happiness from the place. It was with a heavy heart in remembrance of Sirius that Harry chose instead of normal clothing, a black pair of pants and shirt and tie. He looked about to attend a funeral and in fact was asked by the clerk if this was so.

Harry was leaving the shop when he realized something. He was never allowed to have anything, even decent clothes. Sirius hadn't died trying to save him so he could punish himself for the rest of his life. Lord Voldemort, and in fact half the students of Hogwarts already did a bang up job of that as it was, 'thanks very much,' Harry thought to himself as he stepped back into the store. Looking at Harry still dressed in Dudley's old clothes, the salesman figured he must have spent his last dime on the black outfit. She was less than helpful. Harry felt his humiliation rising, and he would not have his first taste of freedom ruined. He reached into his wallet and pulled out the large amount money, making sure the snobby clerk had a good clear view of it. Obviously on commission, the sales clerk sprang into instant helpfulness. "Forget it," said Harry as the scandalised looking clerk stared after him leaving to enter the shop across the way. He left carrying a large bag of expensive jeans, sports jerseys and trainers.

Harry, who had been quite reckless since Sirius's death, spotted a large black dog across the four lane street. Before he could even stop himself...before he could even remind himself of the painfully obvious fact that Sirius wasn't coming back in his black dog animagus form or otherwise, he sprang into traffic, calling his godfather's name. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. Harry didn't hear the honking horns and calls of "hey, watch what you're doing!" As his waking eyes watched the poor dog fly through the air, having bounded into traffic to answer Harry's call and getting struck for his happy obedience to answer any friendly call, no matter what name was called to the poor thing, Harry's tormented anguished mind's eye saw Sirius falling through the veil of night, never to return to him again.

The image of Sirius faded from Harry's view as he was jolted back to the reality of just how sick he had been to think that Sirius would be strolling around London, when he thought he had finally come to accept that he was dead. The very real normal dog, lay in a heap on the road amidst the honking horns of the unsympathetic, who just wanted 'it' removed from the roadway so they could get where they were going, and the throngs of pedestrians who stood by wondering why the dog had suddenly bounded into moving traffic. Part of Harry wished the dog had just vanished like Sirius had done, because he couldn't face the whimpering noises and shivering of it's battered body. He knew it was his fault. Sirius was his fault, Cedric was his fault...it was all his fault.

Harry just stood there, legs feeling like they would buckle from under him until he was jolted back into the horrible moment when a lady addressed him directly.

"It just ran out and there was nothing I could do," sobbed the lady who had struck the rather shabby looking dog. She felt so bad as she took in Harry's equally shabby appearance, still wearing Dudley's old clothes for some reason, that she figured Harry must be from a poor family and this dog must be his only friend in the whole world. The poor lady's imagine ran away with her, figuring that Harry would be beaten for taking his dog out without a leash. She pressed some money into Harry's hands and drove off in a very large expensive car.

The animal shelter van pulled up just as Harry was kneeling on the pavement stroking the dying dog's fur. " I'm sorry boy...I'm so stupid! How could I have done this?" Harry felt even more guilty when the black lab licked his hand and looked at him with his large amber eyes. "You're not going to die," Harry decided. The animal control officer appraised Harry's appearance and again jumping to the conclusion that Harry was extremely poor, assured him that the dog would be 'put to sleep' humanely. Harry always thought 'put to sleep was a very deceptive way to tell someone that the dog would be killed. He would be no less dead just for the difference of a few words.

"No," said Harry with a voice laced with so much conviction it hurt. "This dog will not die. Please just give us a ride to a vet's office."

"But son, these injuries are probably beyond repair, leastways without big bucks." He looked sympathetic, but resolute on the destruction of the dog. "You know, if you want, you can bring your parents into the shelter and buy another dog for cheaper than fixing up this one."

"I want this dog!" bellowed Harry, surprising even himself. Other than Hedwig his owl, Harry had never had a pet. He'd never been allowed. "I've got money. Please take me to a vet! He's dying!" Harry wished more than anything that he could get ahold of Professor Grubbly Planks, who had mended Hedwig when she had been injured. Even Madame Pomfrey who looked after humans would do.

"I just need a ride to the vets," Harry pleaded again, but the man already had a syringe filled to kill the dog. Harry had been through hell this year, and the more he thought about it, life was hell. Suddenly whether this dog lived or died seemed to Harry to be the deciding factor in whether or not he should keep fighting to have a decent life and defeat Voldemort or just give up and wait for the inevitable to happen, the duel to death with Voldemort as the prophecy had foretold. Harry felt if he could undo the wrong he had done today and save this life, he would keep trying to save his own.

Okay, that's chapter one. I promise it will heat up more around chapter three. I thank you for the reviews...very honest. I have fixed some of the errors mentioned in the reviews, so I'd like to thank everyone, and in the next chapters, I will be more specific about some of the wonderful people who have pointed out flaws and encouraged me at the same time. I'm glad you like it, and like I said, soon, the Weasleys and the whole gang will be in the story and things will take off.


	2. The Ultimate Betrayal

This is not for profit, just for fun. I admire J. K. Rowling's fine works and decided to have some fun making my version of the sixth year.

A/N This is my first fanfiction story. It is complete and will be updated once or twice weekly. Please read and review. It is a lot better than the summary lets on and actually gets better after chapter three, so please hang in there until than?

Heedless of the consequences of leaving his duties to follow his Uncle Vernon, Harry stuck his wand out and instantly a violently purple three decker bus sped onto the curb, moving regular automobiles and parking metres magically out of it's way . Harry had inadvertently summoned this bus before, an emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. He was relieved when Stan Shunpike stepped off the bus and addressed him.

"What's happened than Harry?" motioned Stan , pointing at the dog.

"Stan, You've got to help me. This dog's gonna die and it's all my fault."

Stan, who wasn't much older than Harry called to the driver, "Hey Ern, come help me lift this dog." The dog moaned pitifully when laid in one of the bedsteads on the bus. "Where to Harry? Best animal healers are in Diagon Alley."

Harry couldn't explain to Stan that in order to be protected from Voldemort, he couldn't leave the muggle world. "Professor Dumbledore says I have to stay with my Aunt and Uncle," Harry trailed off.

"But Harry, I thought you wanted to save the dog. Bad business muggle car traffic. We can go as fast as we like and we don't hit nothin' do we Ern?"

"Nuffink living anyway," returned Ern in agreement.

"Listen, trust me, I've just got to get an animal doctor, a vet. I don't live around here. I don't know where it is ."

"Nuffink to worry about lad," said Ern and true to his word he pulled up to a vet's office.

Muggle destinations not being in high popular demand by Knight bus's regular passengers, Ern and Stan were not properly dressed to help Harry lift Max as Harry had already named him into the vet's office. Harry was struggling so hard under the dog's weight with his hind legs trailing on the floor, that the receptionist came out to help him. "Good luck!" called Stan as the Knight bus sped away, apparently unnoticed by the receptionist.

Harry was ushered past other waiting customers due to seriousness of the dog's injuries. After asking what seemed like a million questions about vaccination history and age etc. she sympathetically asked how he intended to pay, stating that the terms were cash or credit card.

"Cash," Harry pleaded with her to get the doctor. Harry heard the doorknob turn and a pleasant young woman in a white coat stepped in.

"I'm Stephanie, and this is?" she indicated Max.

"Max," Harry simply stated, impressed that she began to thoroughly examine Max right away. Harry relaxed somewhat, noticing Stephanie's concern. "A couple of x-rays and we'll know what we're dealing with. Twenty minutes later, the news that the dog's ribs were broken and he needed pins inserted into his hip to repair the severe break came. Max faced a long expensive recovery. Harry left a large deposit on Max's care and gave the go ahead for the surgery, not knowing how he would come up with the rest of the money. He left the office, saying, "It'll be okay boy," not knowing if he was telling the truth or not. He wondered what the dog's real name was, if he even had one.

By the time Harry reached Uncle Vernon's office building, he was exhausted and hungry. Now however, there was a change of plans. He would not follow Uncle Vernon into the fancy bistro to dine on expensive meals as he had planned. Now he had to be thrifty to save his 'spy' money for a nobler cause. He sat in front of the fancy restaurant and munched a hamburger and a glass of water from a take out place around the corner. As a child with no knowledge of having been a wizard, Harry had been bowed to in this very spot. A small elderly wizard could not refrain from showing his respect, though Harry had not understood the magnificent gesture. Uncle Vernon had slapped the back of his head as he stared after the old man.

Harry didn't know why he was going through the motions of following Uncle Vernon. He could easily have just written false entries into the journal Aunt Petunia had given him, but he thought it best to at least have some idea of where he went just in case he was questioned on his entries, which he knew he would be.

Uncle Vernon was taking two people to lunch at the "Pomme de Terre." Too anxious to stay more than the two hours, he had already sat there waiting for the trio to leave, Harry stood up to leave himself. It was so hot that the well dressed people from nearby air-conditioned offices had perspiration marks on their clothing. Everyone was fanning themselves with magazines. Harry was sunburnt and uncomfortable, but he knew he could not return home, if you could call it that, before Uncle Vernon.

A little wistfully, Harry returned his new jeans and Jerseys and trainers for a refund to help pay for the vet bill. He stood in front of the corner store by Uncle Vernon's office waiting to see his car leave the lot so he could head back to little Whinging. He sacrificed a quarter to make a phone call to the vet and was surprised to hear a child's voice answer the phone. Harry had heard the Dursleys complain about human doctors taking Wednesdays off and was surprised to find that Stephanie was still in her office well past five o'clock. 'of course,' thought Harry, the Dursleys complained if they had to wait for anything, especially if it was for Dudley. Aunt Petunia had made Uncle Vernon take Dudley to an expensive private clinic when the hospital near them had treated someone with a heart attack before Dudley who had 'sprouted' a tail.

"I knew you'd be calling," beamed Stephanie when she came on the line. "He came through surgery swimmingly." hearing the audible sigh of relief from Harry, she added, "He must be very special to you." Sensing that somehow he could trust her, Harry spilled the whole story of mistakenly calling to the dog, leaving out of course the part about Sirius. Now Harry paused tentatively waiting to hear the reply, and fearing that She would suggest that Harry should find Max's owners.

"You know, Harry," she said kindly. "I don't think this dog had an owner, given his frail condition, but you owe it to his owners to place a found ad in the local paper. It's free," she added. Harry would feel terrible giving Max to someone who abused him, but he reasoned that if he had been missing for a long time, he may have come to look so rough naturally. Either way, for some reason he could not even explain to himself, he would find it hard to part with this dog.

Why hadn't he seen this coming? The next words from Stephanie's mouth were, " well if he's not owned, maybe your parents will let you keep him..." followed by a lot of dead air space.

"I live with my Aunt and Uncle," Harry answered and left it at that. Harry hadn't said that

his parents were dead, but somehow Stephanie knew. "Oh, Sorry. Well maybe they would indulge you a pet. Harry automatically thought of what asking people who got upset by sparrow droppings on their lawn, would say if asked if he could have a dog. Somehow Harry thought even Dudley would be denied this request. No, the Dursleys thought all animals were messy and unhygienic

"We do have an adoption program through our clinic, although Max is rather larger and older than most people feel is ideal for city homes, but I could make some arrangements." She could almost hear Harry's inner turmoil.

"Can I think on it?" Harry asked.

"Well, Max isn't going anywhere now in any case," she assured him.

"Can I visit him tomorrow?"

"Sure. We open at seven." The conversation was over, the day was over, and yet for Harry, it had just begun.

"Come into the garden, Harry. I want to show you some patio stones I want moved around," Aunt Petunia motioned out the patio doors. Dudley smirked at Harry across the table, never having been asked to do any chore of any kind in all of Harry's memory. "Out with it. Where have you been and what have you seen?" Aunt petunia had never left the dirty dishes on the table before for any reason, not even for a few moments. Now she stood among her roses making fake and exaggerated motions to Harry, as though instructing him on how she wanted the stones moved. Harry thought she looked quite mad.

Harry pulled out his journal, into which he had managed to scrawl some juicy, but not too juicy tidbits on the whereabouts and goings on of one Vernon Dursley. He made sure to exaggerate the physical characteristics of Uncle Vernon's lunch guests. Like his divination homework, Harry had gotten quite good at making things up in a pinch. On the train ride back to Privet Drive, Harry made sure he had accounted for all his lost time at the vet's.

Aunt Petunia approved somewhat of the black outfit Harry had chosen, which set Harry up for his next task, extracting more money from Aunt Petunia to continue his espionage. Harry had let on that this outfit had cost him most of his money, and Aunt Petunia, used to shopping for Dudley at only the finest and most expensive clothing stores, believed him, but still refused to give him any more money except for food and train fare.

The next morning, feeling desperate, Harry decided that, needing to save the train fare toward his vet bill, constituted an emergency and thus another call for the Knight Bus. He could pay the fare for that with his wizarding money and save the scarce muggle money for the vet. Stan and Ern didn't seem surprised to see Harry, and in fact, seemed even more interested in him than even before, if that were possible.

"We're right glad that Sirius Black didn't get you a few years back when we first found ya, lad. Must be glad ee's gone eh?" Ern turned right around to look at Harry, while the bus apparently drove itself.

"Er, Yeah," Harry said stoutly, not able reply in any other way, since most people still did not know yet that Sirius Black had been an innocent man. Ern's comment made Harry realize that he would be hearing relieved, even overjoyed people, talking about Sirius's death like it was the best thing that had happened in the fight against dark wizards since he had survived a strike from Voldemort as an infant. Ern's comment had stung him into silence as he knew he would be hearing non stop well-meaning chatter about this death.

"Why so glum, Harry? I fot you said 'e was gonna make it, that Max dog. That's what you called 'im in'it?" Stan looked at him sympathetically.

"Yeah, I"m just thinking. I'd like to keep him, but I can't." Harry was only half lying. Most of his sudden sadness was caused by the fact that Harry really hadn't thought about the fact that he would have to hide his grief over his godfather's death and maybe even have to participate in the inevitable character assassinations that would surely be rampant at Hogwarts. Sirius had been wrongly labelled a "known Voldemort supporter" so to take suspicions off himself, he would have to pretend to be even glad of the death. Harry had been ordered by The Order of The Phoenix, not to try to enlighten people that Sirius had been wrongly convicted and had even escaped from Azkaban Prison to prove his innocence and claim his godson.

"Yeah, glad he's gone." Harry had gotten used to lying more and more each day, but this one barely choked out of him. He felt like he'd been punched in the throat. His mouth was dry. This lie felt so bad it had caused a physical reaction, so when he walked into the vet's office shortly after, looking ashen faced and sick, Stephanie called to the boy named Tyler to bring him a glass of water and she gestured for him to sit down.

"Are you alright?" She looked very concerned. Harry thought quickly. It wouldn't be at all out of reason to use the unseasonably hot weather as an excuse for feeling poorly, so he did. At only seven o'clock in the morning, the temperature had reached the unbearable point already. The heat was unprecedented and could not be explained by scientists or meteorologists. It was the topic of conversation on every street as people scrambled to get somewhere airconditioned .

The weather excuse satisfied Stephanie, but her son Tyler, who was eleven years old, scrutinized his face so keenly, that Harry could have sworn he felt some thought invasion. Tyler quickly turned away, squeezing Harry's shoulder as if he felt sorry for him. Harry would usually have been angry with anyone who had stared at him like this. It wasn't like he wasn't used to people staring at his scar every day of his life, but this boy hadn't even glanced at it. For some reason Harry did not feel angry. He couldn't explain it, but he felt better physically and mentally than he had in weeks, after Tyler had touched his shoulder.

Harry was led to the back room where Max and his fellow patients were lounging on soft beds. Harry was surprised to see rabbits and hedgehogs and other small wild animals. Stephanie explained that the owner of the clinic let her do charity work for some of the smaller wild animals who had survived car injuries or the like. "This fox was left clinging to life after being hunted down by a pack of hounds for sport," she said disgustedly.

Harry, who never did approve of sport hunting, almost forgot himself and told Stephanie and Tyler about the fact that Quidditch used to be played with a live bird, instead of a golden ball. Now that he thought about it, he realized he would never have played Quidditch at all if this was still the case.

The more Harry talked to Stephanie and Tyler, the more he liked them, but being friends with Harry Potter could put your life at risk. He already worried for his two best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. He felt he could risk distant conversation. He was starved for someone to talk to. "Just don't get too close," he thought .

Max thumped his tail enthusiastically when Harry finally got to the enclosure. This was a huge facility. Tyler opened the door and before Harry entered, Tyler did something very strange. He placed his forehead on Max's huge shaggy head and Harry could have sworn he heard him whisper something to the dog.

Harry was left alone with Max, who sat with his head in Harry's lap. Somehow it was very comfortable. Harry didn't have to say anything to Max and Max didn't have to say anything to Harry. They just sat watching the comings and goings of people and animals and in particular, Tyler.

Stephanie had said that Tyler had made extra money after school and on weekends cleaning out cages and feeding the animals. He would also exercise the more healed animals, readying them for home life. It seemed to Harry as he watched, that there was more to Tyler than met the eye. Tyler would look around, forgetting about Harry, to make sure no one was around, than, at the cages of the more sick or grievously wounded animals like the fox, he would reach in and seem to caress without actually touching the animal. Harry thought it extremely odd behaviour, but sometimes kids are weird or Harry supposed. He had never been allowed to be a kid, and Dudley had never been a good example of a normal kid either.

Max was doing remarkably well. To make a good showing, Harry gave all his train and meal money towards the bill. It was a considerable sum as he was supposed to be dining at "Le Maison De Flambe." "I didn't want to eat at a 'burning house' anyway,' Harry translated the French name of the restaurant to himself, chuckling a bit. How gullible people were for fancy facades.

'Oh great, now I'm doing it, 'facade' he said to himself. I should look into French lessons. Harry felt it was amazing how the morning with Max had passed without a single negative thought. The past few weeks had brought nothing but them. He felt as though someone had put a cheering charm on him, only without the giddiness usually felt with one.

"We close for lunch, Harry." It was Stephanie who had ushered him out.

"See you tomorrow Max," Harry promised. In this extreme heat, Harry didn't feel hungry, which was a good thing since his money was all gone. He wondered how people could eat hot food on a day like this anyway and went across the street from "Le maison de Flambe" to get a drink from the fountain.

Along came Uncle Vernon, giving his keys to the parking attendant and opening the door for a leggy blonde. Now this was an eye opener as he offered her his arm. It turned out however that Harry's initial interest was premature. Uncle Vernon had than reached into the back seat for a cane, which he handed to the leggy blonde. Harry was relieved that this was no more than a gentlemanly act, for it would have required a lot more work on his part if he had seen any more evidence. Still, he was intrigued and now wished he could enter the restaurant.

What little he could make out from Uncle Vernon's table through the darkened windows of the restaurant, was a few telephone calls made by Uncle Vernon and his lunch guest. There were no cocktails or desert, and Uncle Vernon's car was seen leaving the restaurant shortly thereafter. Aunt Petunia had given Harry a list of Uncle Vernon's reservations and appointments, and Harry made the rest up to keep her curious and he on the job. The more Harry alluded the fact that he was close to a breakthrough, the more generous she became.

Harry began his third day much the same as he had on the previous one, only this time he was careful to sneak some sandwiches and bananas for lunch. Dudley, who had been told that Harry had to attend summer school, and was dumb enough to believe this, even though the distance to Hogwarts would never allow for frequent day trips, teased him incessantly about it. "Mom! Harry's stealing food!" he shouted into the sitting room, where Aunt Petunia was dusting portraits lovingly, as though remembering happier times when all they had to worry about was 'what to do with that boy'.

"What do you mean by this!" admonished Aunt Petunia, catching herself only when she noticed Dudley's squinted up eyebrows when she said, "I have already given you plenty of money for..."

"Mommy, you're giving money to him?" None of the Dursleys had ever given Harry anything, not even on his birthday. Dudley looked robbed and beaten. He ate Harry's sandwiches and fruit while Aunt Petunia consoled him with what she assured him was far more money than Harry had received, all the while looking at Harry like she couldn't wait to thrash him. Once Dudley was convinced that the money Harry had received was for school books only, and that, after all, the faster he passed his grades, the faster they would be rid of him, she beckoned Harry out into the garden, once again making over exaggerated gardening instructions to him.

Harry was ashamed of just how good a liar he was becoming. He studied his feet as he reminded Aunt Petunia of just how many pretty secretaries were in Uncle Vernon's office building. He concocted a story about having to purchase sandwiches and pay someone to deliver them into the office and come out with a report on what Uncle Vernon was up to during work hours, where of course Harry would be recognized immediately. He didn't look up when she asked what he had learned. He thought fast on his feet and made up a story about a secretary just taking dictation in his office, to which Aunt Petunia voiced that she couldn't imagine what he would have to dictate. "I didn't have enough money to buy sandwiches and pay someone to deliver them today, so I thought I'd make them, you know, to save you money," he added slyly.

"Stupid boy, restaurant sandwiches do not come crumpled up in plastic bags! Do you want me to get caught?"

"You?" said Harry. "Uncle Vernon would kill me if he knew what I was doing." Aunt Petunia had concealed that she thought Harry's plan had been brilliant .

"Today, I want you to buy some chocolates for Vernon and have them sent from an admirer-a secret admirer. If Vernon is perplexed about the gift, or he tells me about it, I'll know he's being true, if not, I'll know he has secrets.

"She bought it." Harry thought to himself as Stan and Ern, let him off in front of fine choclatier, after having asked why he needed so much emergency transport. Harry knew he'd have to send the expensive chocolates that Aunt Petunia had ordered him to, because Uncle Vernon would most likely be telling her about it tonight.

The chocolatier seemed on the verge of tears. Someone had shut off his airconditioner in all this heat and his finely sculpted chocolate masterpieces now resembled Hermione's pet cat Crookshanks litter droppings. The proprietor had turned the airconditioning back on hours ago, but hadn't saved a single item. An irate bride and her furious mother stared at the bald little fat man, also on the verge of tears. Her wedding desserts had been ruined. What were once beautifully written chocolate place cards with the guests name on them were now puddles. The white icing lettering on the chocolate, in it's melted state looked like very old crumbling tomb stones. The bride left, promising a law suit. Harry stepped up and asked to buy something.

"Everything is ruined utterly. I have to start over." The man had a thick French accent.

"Can I buy these cheap?" Harry indicated, pointed to the turds of chocolate with toasted coconut on them.

"You can have them. Help yourself," the man said dejectedly starting to gather up the contents of the store and place everything into a large vat. Feeling happy for the free candy, Harry helped the man gather up the ruined delicacies. In exchange, the man took the bag of white icing at Harry's request and wrote 'to Vernon with love' on the lumps of candy. He wrapped it in a gold box and put ribbon on. It was perfect. "If you want to come back, there will be fresh merchandise by four."

"Oh, er, no thanks. It's just a gag for a friend." Than, deciding to get a chuckle out of this for himself and knowing that the Dursleys didn't speak a word of French, he had the man write "little cat droppings" in French on the box. So now, the box of "Mon Petite Chat's Phooey were on their way to Uncle Vernon's office building, delivered by none other than the choclatier himself, who said he could use a good laugh just now. The best part was, it didn't cost Harry a dime.

When Harry entered the back room of the vet's office, he was surprised to see the fox's cage empty. Harry couldn't believe when Stephanie told him that the fox was recovered and had been set free. He remembered having seen huge fresh stitches in the animal only yesterday. "You can tell me if he died, you know. Death doesn't bother me," he stammered, thinking she was trying to protect him. He hated it when people treated him like he was fragile, like he couldn't defend himself, like he hadn't already proven himself a man- and just than he realized it. He was a man. Today was his sixteenth birthday.

It wasn't unusual for Harry's birthdays to escape him, after all he wasn't a silly girl who needed a sweet sixteen party. Still, it was another milestone marked by nothing but misery. Harry didn't want to be selfish, but he doubted any present would make him feel better anyway. "Harry–Harry? Are you alright?" Stephanie called through his little conversation with himself. She didn't seem angry that Harry had alluded that she was lying about the fox. She had stuck to the story so vehemently that Harry almost believed that the fox had healed.

Harry now noticed that most of the other wild animals had gone as well. "Those other animals. The little flying squirrel and the little deer that was in that pen over there. Where are they than?"

"Well," she said sadly. "We couldn't release them back into their own territories because they came from the new road construction site. Their trees have all been cleared and by law we can't keep them here when they're healed, so they're awaiting relocation at a wildlife rehabilitation centre. Just this little garter snake here now.

"So more cages for them." Harry could relate. As he signed a petition started by Tyler, which already had four thousand names on it, Harry was stunned. The valley that was being torn apart was one of his refuges from number four Privet Drive. The only nearby quiet and truly peaceful place he could go to get away from the Dursleys for an evening. Harry wanted to add more than just his name to this petition. He wanted to add a curse for the recipient, a rich developer. He hadn't known that work had already started on the expressway. He would have thought, naively as it may be that being the only green space left in little Whinging, it would have protected status.

Entering Max's cage, Harry said, "I'm sixteen today, boy." Max wagged his tail enthusiastically and in so doing left his injuries open to view, only there was nothing to see. Presuming that Max must be lying on his injured side, Harry glanced at his other leg. Not only were the stitches gone, the wound was gone and had regrown hair back onto it. Before Harry could express his amazement, Tyler came in, and with more authority in his voice than an eleven year old should have, he told Harry that Max needed to begin exercise today. Tyler told Harry to come back in an hour and Max would be back.

Caught somewhat off guard and taken aback by the boy's order, he replied, "I can walk my own dog, thank you." In his irritation, Harry had not even asked about Max's miraculous recovery, but looking at Tyler for an answer, he felt his irritation ebbing. When Tyler put his hand on Harry's shoulder, Harry decided he had been a little too defensive. After all, Tyler was experienced with animals. Harry knew that he had developed a quick temper, even when talking with friends if they appeared to be patronizing or controlling somehow. "Can I walk with you?"Harry asked Tyler sounding somehow younger than he was for some reason.

"I'm afraid not," Tyler answered in a less authoritarian voice." His hand was still on Harry's shoulder and for some reason, he felt content not to ask why. Harry was embarrassed when he was awoken an hour later from the most contented sleep he he'd had in ages. He woke up to Tyler's gentle whisper of "Wake up sleepy head. How do you feel now?" Harry would normally have been furious at someone who in his opinion, had spoken to him like a child or a person with a disturbed mind, or even like one of his pet patients. For someone who was only supposed to be cleaning out cages, Tyler seemed to have many more duties than Stephanie had let on. He seemed to enjoy his work, not worried about missing out on playing with his friends. Tyler seemed so content, and Harry was sure he had never felt as settled as this boy five years his junior.

"I'm okay," Harry answered, and for some reason, he was. He felt he could have stayed there all day.

"Weather's getting nasty out there," said Tyler. I have things to do, and Max should rest. I'll leave you for awhile. He said his goodbyes to Max. Things were happening much quicker than Harry could develop a plan for. Max had gone from dying to a full recovery in only three days. On the plus side, the vet bill would be more manageable due to the short recovery period, but there was no way Harry could take Max home. Despite this, Harry left without telling Stephanie to start the adoption process to get Max a decent home.

Harry had given all his money to the vet clinic and since Dudley had eaten his sandwiches, he stood under a torn canopy of a nearby building to shield himself from the torrential rain storm. They had needed rain desperately. Steam rose in billows from the black top and the wind whipped the dry and creaking branches of the trees that lined the street of shops. It was just than that Stephanie pulled up with Tyler, getting her dark blonde curly hair wet as she leaned out the window calling, "It's my half day when time allows. Do you need a ride?"

"No, it's okay," Harry waved them on. He really had no where to go until Uncle Vernon went home. Tyler got out of the car and ran up to Harry. Apparently, they couldn't hear his reply over the driving rain. Soaking wet, Tyler looked his age and it struck Harry how much he looked like Stephanie, large hazel eyes and dark blonde hair. Harry had always been told he had his mother's eyes and his father's stature. He felt a pang of jealousy, or was it pain, when he saw the two of them laughing at each other's rain soaked appearance, happy with each other's company.

"Will you have supper with us tonight, Harry? Dad's back from his trip and my grandmother is making marble cake with vanilla frosting. Harry's stomach rumbled and he found himself accepting the invitation despite the future consequences. Harry got into their car, glad to be out of the driving rain.

Tyler's father, Howard and Stephanie embraced warmly while Tyler piped in, "did you bring me anything dad?"

"That depends," replied Howard with a mock stern look.. "Did you drive Gramma nuts and shirk your chores, or were you a good boy?"

"Oh dad ," Tyler beamed as his dad handed him something in a taped up bag saying, "Best gift I could find while running through the terminal."

"Admit it, Howard," laughed Stephanie. You've never gift wrapped anything properly in your life."

"Well, you can't wrap these," he returned , producing the most beautiful bunch of flowers Stephanie said she ever seen. "And these are for mom," he said to Tyler's grandmother. "Your favourite licorice candy."

"Such a thoughtful boy," replied Tyler's Grandmother, Helen. And who do we have here?"

Harry snapped out his analysing this warm scene to reply somewhat inadequately, "Oh –uh–Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry Potter." There was no awed and stunned silence, just a normal 'how do you do,' as he was introduced to the rest of Tyler's family. Harry now realized that these were the first muggles he ever met on his own, instead of being introduced by the Dursleys (when they absolutely had to admit he even existed,) as a criminal who attended St. Brustes secure centre for incurably criminal boys. They had never met the Dursleys. To them, Harry Potter was just a nice normal boy.

"Howard dear," prodded Helen perhaps you could get out some of your old college shirts and pants. They would be about Harry's size, perhaps a tad too big," she added taking in his too lean frame. "We can't have Harry catching cold can we?" Harry had been far too nervous to realize that he had been shivering. Tyler offered his bedroom for Harry to change in and the clothes fit much better than any of Dudley's old things had ever done.

When the meal, which was vegetarian was over and Harry found he actually liked tofu, he nearly fell out of his chair when the dessert arrived. Stephanie had hurried into the kitchen right after the meal after declining Harry's offer to help clear. She came out lighting candles on the marble cake in Helen's hands. Sixteen candles to be exact. "Your birthday was on the records at the clinic in the owners file," she explained as everyone sang happy birthday. Harry swelled with pride as he blew out the candles on his cake. He'd had birthday cakes before, but not complete with candles and someone to sing happy birthday to him. "Of course we knew you probably already had a lovely cake with your Aunt and Uncle, but it just makes for a nice addition to Howard's welcome home dinner. " We were going to give this to you on Friday, Max's release date, but as you're here." She handed him a beautifully wrapped present. Harry was stunned to find a beautiful leather collar and retractable leash, engraved with 'Max Potter' on it. Stephanie told him that Max could stay at their house until Harry could talk to his guardians.

"Thanks," was all Harry could say. They didn't know the Dursleys. They wouldn't allow an animal to reside permanently in their house in a month of Sundays. Even their tolerance of the occasional turtle or other object of Dudley's attention, or lack thereof, had only lasted until Dudley got tired of them, neglected them into an early death, or were set free by Harry who had routinely rescued them from Dudley's tantrums.

Harry was alarmed when he realized it was eight o'clock in the evening. The weather had gotten even worse with the rain battering the roof. Harry hadn't noticed, so peaceful was this home. The power had gone out hours ago and the family room glowed with candles and the warm fire in the fireplace. I–I've go to go!" Harry leapt up, panicking.

"Oh dear, why don't you call home and ask if you can spend the night. It's a terrible mess out."

"I can't." Harry was so emphatic that they did not try to dissuade him. He gratefully accepted a ride, hoping that Howard would not want to meet his Aunt and Uncle. He would just direct Howard to let him off at a house down the street, pretending to live there, than just walk the rest of the way. Harry was just hiding his gift in his pants pocket when he realized that he had left his clothes at Tyler's house. How could he explain the missing journal and the different clothing?

Howard saw Harry to the door, somehow picking up on his apprehensions and feeling he could be of some help. Howard was rather shocked that Harry had to ring the doorbell at his own home. Harry began babbling at once. "Train late, bad weather, needed ride." he lied. Howard picked up on Harry's apprehensions at once. The only reason Aunt Petunia, who had answered the door waiting to pounce, let Howard speak at all was because, like Uncle Vernon, Howard was a business man and wore an expensive suit. Aunt Petunia was now clearly the scared one. Scared that Harry had done something wrong to embarrass them, like getting caught skulking around the business district following people. She feared Howard might be an undercover policeman. Harry wasn't told what business Howard was in.

"Lad's had a bit of bad luck. Train cancelled due to the storm, soaking wet to the bone." Howard was concocting a story to rival one of Harry's best. I missed my train from the airport as well. Had plenty of extra clothes in my suitcase, so I lent him these. Wife had to pick me up. She's waiting in the car," he finished quickly.

"Well, thank you for seeing him home. We were so worried." Howard shot Harry a look that indicated that he knew this woman was clearly lying. He looked like he wanted to say something, but with a pleading look from Harry, he said his goodbyes like a mere acquaintance and left, wishing Harry good luck..

Closing the door and dropping her concerned demeanor, Aunt Petunia rounded on Harry. She bought the cancelled train story, because indeed the trains had been cancelled or delayed. Uncle Vernon sat sulking in the study while Aunt Petunia hissed in Harry's ear, "Do you know what Uncle Vernon gave me today?" She sounded like a shrew. "These!" She held up the chocolate box Harry had sent to Uncle Vernon today. "He must have removed the tags and re-gifted them to me. The nerve! I thought for sure he would have wondered who sent them, but he must receive gifts like this all the time, not to have been puzzled as to whom they'd come from." It had escaped Aunt Petunia that the box read 'my little cat's poop' Harry thought, feeling much relieved.

"What's this?" snapped Aunt Petunia, catching sight of the gift box Harry had sticking out of his pocket. Just once it would be nice not to be searched. Just be normal, like the family he'd just visited.

"Just some more chocolates," he lied quickly. "I thought we'd send them tomorrow to see what happens." But Harry's lie luck had come to an end.

Aunt Petunia snapped open the box exclaiming, "Have you been spending my money on this punk rock nonsense gadgets like the ones you see on television!" She spat in disgust at the dog collar.

"Y—yes," Harry stammered figuring her ready made story was better than telling her about Max and about where all her money had really gone.

"Vernon!" She called into the study, turning back to Harry and demanding, "What do mean by all of this?" apparently this attire was considered as bad as being a wizard. What would take place next had Harry's head reeling.

As soon as Uncle Vernon had entered the hall, Petunia put on her best performance ever. "Harry has stolen money to buy this rock and roll garbage and has been following you around trying to catch you in an affair and break up our beautiful marriage!" She looked about to faint.

Uncle Vernon's purple face looked like he was going to pop a major artery. Dudley appeared smirking, leaning on the stair rail. She continued. "Dudders was in town for a few days with his friends. He saw Harry skulking around spending large quantities of money, so naturally he came to me right away." She eyed Harry as though warning him not to tell Uncle Vernon that it was all her idea. Harry glared at Dudley, wondering how much he actually knew. To his complete amazement and horror, Dudley proudly took out a journal.

"Day One", Dudley began importantly. Harry realized with a horrible sinking feeling that Aunt Petunia had set him up. She now looked like the perfect victim. A. Her money had been stolen. B. Harry had told her that Uncle Vernon had been seen kissing a leggy blonde. "I did not start anything!" he shouted defensively; "I didn't want this! You made me follow him!" He jabbed at Aunt Petunia's collar in an uncharacteristic display of his welled up turmoil, knowing that he was defeated before he began. Somehow, Petunia had been found out, and she needed to make Harry her scapegoat.

Dudley, who had until his trip to London, been oblivious to the secret between Aunt Petunia and Harry, continued. Harry knew he had been too busy to see Dudley in the crowded business district, with all his friends, but he knew now, looking at the self important little git, that Dudley, as dull as he normally was, had unravelled his own mother's intentions and now protected her, throwing Harry into Uncle Vernon's rage.

Uncle Vernon looked like a victim now too. Falsely accused and robbed of money, that would have been better spent on Dudley, and Dudley looked the hero who had saved the day for having cleared up Harry's lies about Vernon's supposed affairs to Aunt Petunia. Dudley couldn't have really been paying too much attention to Harry in London, for when he continued to read his journal aloud with much relish, he had said that Harry had gone into a tattoo parlour and purchased his collar, leash and tag. Harry could tell Dudley had only just written this entry because the ink was a different colour than the rest. "You see why I've been drinking Vernon dear, this boy has been poisoning my mind with his lies." Aunt Petunia whimpered, relying on the fact that Vernon had always hated Harry and would automatically believe that it had been Harry who had suggested in the first place, that he had been having an affair just to get himself some money and free time in London.

"You see why I've been entertaining clients away, Petunia dear?" (this was sickening to Harry) "It's too embarrassing to bring them here with this boy here," Vernon replied, cuffing Harry in the head. Harry's ears were ringing as every last one of them found a way to make it all Harry's fault .

"You see why I've had to ask for more allowance money? I've been spending it all following him around, even though I had to go into places I was ashamed to go into, just to help you." Dudley lied, looking sweetly at his parents, who promised him a large reward as he set off for the Kitchen.

Aunt Petunia had managed to turn everything into Harry's fault and in so doing had patched up her marriage and set things back to where she liked them. They were right, he was wrong. Dudley was an angel, and he was the devil.

The ringing in Harry's ears reflected the weather outside. Uncle Vernon's shouting was almost drowned out by the rain pelting the windows and setting the shutters flapping in wind. Harry was more than angry. There were no words to express how he felt . The weather seemed to be expressing his feelings for him, for just as he had been about to lose control completely and do something drastic, the power went out and the kitchen window broke.

Once again being blamed for things he wouldn't have the slightest clue how to do, another window in the kitchen blew in, showering glass throughout. "You will pay for that boy!" raged Uncle Vernon, raising his beefy hands and reaching for Harry. But Harry could take no more. It seemed he would have to leave or be rescued every summer and this was to be no exception, although this time he vowed he would never darken the Dursley's doorstep again.

Harry reached for his wand but to his horror it was not there. His back pocket, where he had always kept it, despite Mad Eye Moody's dire warnings of losing a buttock should it 'go off,' was at Tyler Golden's house, as was the rest of his clothing he had been wearing that day. Harry felt completely threatened by the now advancing Dursleys. He dodged passed Dudley's doubled up fists receiving a hard blow to the small of the back as he ran.


	3. And So It Begins

This is the chapter where it all starts to happen and it gets much better from here, trust me...please? Please read and review. This story has all main characters included soon and heats up from here on out.

Harry had no time to gather his things. He opened Hedwig's cage and threw her out the window not having time to send an urgent call for help. The Dursleys, not knowing Harry had no wand were busy trying to light candles as wind howled in through the shattered window. Harry managed to slip past them in the dark. They hated Harry but wouldn't let him leave. Whatever threat they had on them to keep Harry physically safe, had apparently still held meaning for the Dursleys. They had split up in the dark, each taking a door or window.

Dudley spotted Harry on the stairs by the flashing lights of an emergency vehicle illuminating the otherwise dark house. Lightening flickered flashes of eerie blue as the thunder shook the remaining intact window. This was it. Harry ran into the kitchen and leapt through the broken window frame, tearing Howard's old college sweatshirt and making a gash on his palm as he used his right hand for leverage out the window. Harry didn't notice the injury as he ran blindly through the deluge of rain. If the wind hadn't been at his back, he wouldn't have been able to move against it's fury.

He got onto his broom, apprehension seizing him. He had never flown in weather like this before. The Quidditch match of a few years ago had been a spring walk on a sunny beach compared to this. He couldn't summon the knight bus without his wand. This was it, he had to go get his wand the only way he could.

Harry's Firebolt would only rise five feet in the air. The storm had made the night sky so inky, no muggle would be able to see him anyway, nor did he care whether they could or not. He was fed up and was feeling more insane than anyone had ever accused him of being. No more "there there, do as we say Harry and be a good little wizard." No more reasoning things out. Harry had told himself and many others that he'd had it, but now he felt at the point of no return. Harry was going to do what Harry wanted to do. He would be a puppet no more, he decided as he passed places of his tormented childhood on his way to retrieve his belongings. None but one of these places, held a special memory for Harry, and as he was passing by it, he lingered for a moment to appreciate it, for he knew his days in Little Whinging were behind him, and he also knew that this place which had always held a tranquil spot to collect himself and to make his days with the Dursleys more bearable, was going to be gone forever soon.

A lightning bolt illuminated a line of bulldozers perched before a beautiful valley. The one place in the muggle world where Harry had felt at peace. The Red Hill Valley and Kings Forest marshlands were about to be destroyed for a road to be built. Tyler had asked Harry to sign his petition to halt the destruction which he'd done, but it had been useless. Even though people were opposed to the destruction of the last bit of green space in Little Whinging, the politicians were bought and paid for and the construction company was about to have their way.

Harry could see Uncle Vernon in his mind. All he could see for real was the flashes of lightning, letting him glance at his special place for the last time. He heard Uncle Vernon's voice "Ruddy environmentalists trying to stop progress. I'll get to work twenty minutes faster. Most regular people won't be willing to dish out for the toll." Reluctantly, Harry took one last look at this place of threatened beauty and set off again for London.

Harry was making slow progress to retrieve his wand from the Golden's house. He hoped no one had touched it. When he arrived at the door and was about to knock, the thought occurred to him that he should just use the accio charm and be done with it, but he decided he would like to see Tyler's family one last time. He wouldn't be able to say goodbye to them or anything, but he could have one more glimpse of a happy home. He somehow felt he may never see the Weaslys again either, who had always seemed to Harry to be the epitome of a normal, loving family, except for their bout of trouble with Percy.

Harry pounded on the door. He did not want to be rude, but it was the only way he could be heard above the raging storm. He almost fell into the house when Stephanie answered carrying a Hurricane lamp. "Harry, you're Hurt!" Harry hadn't given any thought to his injury. "I'm fine" he reassured her, but now he looked at his hand in proper light, it was no wonder he felt light headed, beyond flying in such foul conditions. Seeing the concern she had for him, compared to the Dursley's complete lack of any care or concern for him during his entire life, made Harry know that it was a good thing he hadn't had his wand before he'd run off. He shuddered slightly, realizing only now, that if he'd had his wand, he may not have had the control to refrain from punishing the Dursleys for their hateful contempt of him since infancy. He had denied breaking the windows back in Privet Drive in angry uncontrolled flares of magic, thinking, at least hoping, it had been the storms. If he was this out of control again, he knew it would only be a matter of time before someone else was hurt. He hated the Dursleys, but he had to hope in his heart that he would never purposely cause them pain. He had to know he was better than that.

"What are you doing back?" Stephanie had asked with alarm at a boy this age being out alone on so foul a night and injured. She was pleased to see him, but puzzled at his arrival in such bad weather.

"I've just come to get my wan- um clothes." Harry only just caught himself.

"Oh, Helen's just washed and dried them before the power went out again. They're in a bag in Tyler's room, but you can't leave tonight. The phones are down and we can't even call your relatives." Harry was beyond truth or lies. He just needed his wand and he needed it NOW.

"These storms are only to get worse all night according to the radio. "Tyler," she called, summoning Tyler to come with bandages and antiseptic". Harry knew he needed stitches. He'd had loads of them for being at the mercy of Dudley for most of his life. No, the scar on his forehead wasn't the only one he had. When people stared at the scar on his forehead, he had on more than one occasion contemplated offering them a look at his other scar from being hit by a pellet from Dudley's Christmas present, a pellet gun. It had hit Harry on the cheek, no, not the one on his face. He had spent that Christmas getting it removed from his right butt cheek. How embarrassing not to mention painful. Muggle medicine was less than modest, Harry remembered.

"Trees are down everywhere, Steph" Howard explained, entering the hall to see who had knocked on their door on a night like this. As Harry rocked on his heels, partially from impatience, partly from blood loss, Tyler's parents discussed what to do about their injured guest. Stephanie had made Harry sit down and had wrapped his hand in a towel for the moment.

"There's no way we can get Harry to the hospital for stiches," Harry heard Tyler's father tell Stephanie, and he was slightly afraid they'd make up their mind to stitch his hand up themselves. Even though Stephanie was a doctor, Harry knew Madame Pomfrey could have closed it in a second without pain. Harry wasn't a sissy, but he wanted to avoid more pain. Little did he know that in a few hours time, he would know nothing but pain.

Tyler came with the first aid kit and looked at the two open flaps of skin with a large gash in between with little concern. "Come on upstairs, I'll at least bind it for you." Tyler told Harry as Howard and he helped him up the stairs.

Harry had thought it strange that Stephanie, being a doctor would not offer to do it herself. She called up to Tyler, "Remember son, he's not the same as an injured animal, you know it won't work the same." Harry didn't know what in the world Stephanie had meant by this, he was just anxious to get his hands on his wand and leave without upsetting these people further.

Tyler took long gauze bandages and antibiotic cleaner and bound Harry's hand tightly enough to stem the flow of blood, but not cut it off completely. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry's sense of urgency to leave suddenly left. He still wanted to know where his wand was and he still had every intention of leaving, even if it cost him his life to Voldemort, but the thought of Voldemort catching him now he'd left the Dursleys for good, did not seem so inevitable. His hand was warm and comfortable. The feeling had returned to his finger tips.

Harry woke up a couple of hours later shivering. The temperature had dropped to almost winter conditions. He was startled to hear Stephanie talking to Tyler. You have to be careful Tyler, it doesn't work as well with people. He thought he'd been dreaming. Stephanie handed Harry a hot bowl of soup, heated by the family camp stove . Harry ate the soup left handed secretly flexing his right fingers to see if they still worked. The hand felt stingy and tender, but nothing to when he had first arrived. Tyler's grandmother came in with Harry's clothes, wallet and wand in a neat stack. "My late husband used to whittle wood. Been at it long Harry?" she added sweetly, mistaking the wand for a wood project of some kind.

"No" Harry neither lied nor told them it was a wand.

"Look I really appreciate all of this, but I have to get going." Despite their protests, he was not in their charge. He got up to get dressed . How he had gotten into pajamas, he couldn't remember, but as the ladies left the room, he pulled on his shirt, wanting to ask Tyler something, because he, like Harry had a secret, and Harry knew it. Had there been nothing else going on, Harry would have liked to have let time develop a bond with Tyler and find out more about him.

Suddenly, Harry's ears were ringing again and Tyler reached out in a comforting gesture. "No!" Harry leapt back, he wasn't certain why. He didn't have time for blissful slumber now if Tyler had somehow been inducing this on him. He was embarrassed by his emphatic reaction and hoped he hadn't hurt Tyler's feelings or worse yet looked like a freak, thinking Tyler had some healing touch or something, "I've gotta go, Maybe I'll se you again..."

Harry stepped out into the pelting rain, which was now coming down in sheets, not knowing where to go, knowing Voldemort would be looking to fulfill the prophecy of the duel to the death with him. He now felt he could never have friends or family. They would be slaughtered like Sirius and his parents in Voldemort's search to destroy him. Only one of them could live...

Harry retrieved his Firebolt he'd hidden a respectable distance from the house, so no one would see it and flew of with a renewed fury and loss. The Goldens had not gotten hurt yet, but for their own safety, Harry would do the right thing and break off all contact.

Harry, thinking of the dejected look on Tyler's face when he had learned that his petition to save the same valley he had loved, moved him to a foolish but noble gesture. Although still restricted by the underage wizardry act, Harry no longer cared about expulsion from Hogwarts, or fines or speeches from Hermione, who would never approve. She would have told him to send a letter by owl post to Professor Dumbledore or a member of the Order of the Phoenix before leaving Privet Drive to look for trouble. Despite hearing everyone's warnings in his head, Harry took off back toward the valley. He hadn't known where he would go after getting his wand back anyhow, and now, at least for the moment, he had a destination and a purpose. He had fought not to go back to the Dursleys to punish them for all their years of torture, and he had won that fight, at least for now, but if he was going to be expelled, which he was sure he would be...he felt it might as well be for a really big act of underage magic.

Music had never filled the rooms of Privet Drive, but Harry had found an old discarded radio in the garage one summer and had claimed it for his own, hiding it for the past year under the loose floor boards with all the other secrets he had to keep there. A song played in his head as he flew recklessly, eyes squinting as the rain pounded his glasses, forgetting the simple impervious spell Hermione had taught him to keep the rain off them. The lyrics of the Beatles song played in his head, "There are places I remember, all my life, though some have changed, some forever not for better, some have gone, and some remain..." Harry vowed that the Red Hill would remain, unchanged. Something had to be forever...

Harry half leapt, half fell off his Firebolt at the construction yard which stood at the south end of the valley. The bulldozers and dump trucks looked like giant skeletons of dinosaurs when they were lit up in the storm's fury.

Harry pointed his wand yelling at the construction supply lot and one by one the heavy equipment blew up sending large pieces of metal flying everywhere. This would cost millions of dollars in damages, making it unlikely the highway would be started on schedule and giving Tyler's group more time to halt the proceedings.

"ANIALATIUS INSENDIUM !" He screamed over and over again.

"ANIALATIUS INSENDIUM!" Another back hoe had blown sky high, illuminating the whole lot. Harry was full of adrenalin, his heart was beating loudly in his chest. He felt as if he looked down he would actually see it beating, all the while the ringing in his ears continued unabated.

Harry, who had forgotten Hermione's impervious charm for his glasses thought he was hallucinating. A dark robed figure darted behind one of the heavy machines large claw like buckets. Reckless, Harry immediately raised his wand 'ANIALATIUS ISEND-'. Harry was knocked off his feet and flew backwards and landed hard on the ground.

"I would appreciate it if you would desist from this infernal racket Mr. Potter." It was Albus Dumbledore. "You're very lucky the muggle authorities can't reach this place with the storm." He looked at Harry who couldn't make out any of Dumbledore's features through his glasses. Although Harry had thought he'd like nothing better than meeting Voldemort tonight and getting the fatal battle over with, a fear that this figure may be Voldemort in disguise gripped him, and here he was lying flat on his back like a turtle as it stood over him.

Harry grabbed his wand and shouted, "expelliarmus!" but Dumbledore merely held his own wand trained on Harry and offered his free hand to him in a gesture to help him up. Harry rolled onto his stomach and got up unaided.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore had never came to his side in summer before.

"Harry, lower your wand. You haven't even received your N.E.W.T. S yet." This was unmistakenly the same calm-in-any situation voice that Harry had known since he was eleven. Harry had felt let down by Dumbledore last school year. He'd waited years to hear something that he felt he'd had a right to know his whole life. That not only had Voldemort been hunting him since birth, but that Dumbledore had known of the prophecy about Harry and Voldemort having to battle to the death one day all along.

"If you're Dumbledore, let me go than!" Harry blew up the remaining equipment while Dumbledore looked on benignly, just as he had when he had half destroyed his office in anger over Dumbledore's avoidance of him last year, even though Harry had understood now that it had been for his own good. Harry still did not wholly believe that this was not Voldemort in disguise. "If you were Dumbledore, you would never have let me do that. Now come on! Let's go! Accio crane!" Harry summoned the last remaining pieces of heavy equipment and leapt into the driver's seat. He drove it straight at Dumbledore, levelling the pincers at him. Dumbledore turned to Face the crane but did not move, draw his wand in defence or even blink. Harry could see him clearly now for some reason and suddenly looking into those calm blue eyes, he was ashamed for his reckless behaviour and for almost killing the only wizard who could help save his life. Only Dumbledore could make him this ashamed of himself.

Harry felt a rush of exhaustion and relief as he jumped from the crane and sat on the muddy ground as though waiting to be arrested. He didn't say anything. There was no way Dumbledore could forgive this, he thought. "I always wanted to drive one of these," Dumbledore said, pointing his wand at the crane which promptly drove itself over the cliff overlooking the valley. "Oh well, destructive nuisances anyway." Harry gaped at him, open mouthed, not believing his eyes. For as long as he had known him, Harry had never seen Dumbledore make a mistake like this. Harry had been worried he'd be at the very least expelled for this huge amount of under aged wizardry, causing so much destruction, if not sent to Azkaban prison. Now that the Dementors were not running the prison anymore, Harry felt life would be no different there than the Dursleys anyway.

Harry, who was still awaiting Dumbledore's judgement about his latest crimes, listened with guilt as Dumbledore explained that although the valley should indeed be saved, this was not the way to have done it. As Harry started to feel extremely remorseful, Dumbledore explained to him that he understood how much Harry was going through, and somehow Harry knew everything regarding his latest offences at least would be okay. There seemed to be no time for them to decide how to fix the destruction Harry had just caused, as they felt a calm overtake the whole valley. Not a good calm, the calm before a storm. Harry had been specifically told to stay at the Dursley's, but it had turned out he had inadvertently done the right thing. "Your Aunt and Uncle's house has been destroyed by a tornado. The safety you once had there is no longer valid. Magical reversal wizards are trying to assist with the damage as we speak, but members of the order have it on good authority that Voldemort's hunt for you has now begun. That is why I am here. Had the tornadoes been a natural occurrence, the reversal squad would not of course have been sent, but Firenze has seen it in the stars that this night does not favour you for victory." Firenze was a Centaur who taught divination at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore would have sounded to Harry like one of those television fortune tellers if the situation were not so grave and real. Harry now knew that his ears had been ringing with each tornado Voldemort had sent to destroy his only safe place from him in the muggle world.

Harry was no longer a resident prisoner of number four Privet Drive. He realized that he now felt like a coward. Given the opportunity to return to Privet Drive at this very moment to be safe from the dark lord, he knew he would have jumped at the chance. Now he was being told to run, without a clear destination. Dumbledore didn't even seem to know where to send him for safety.

The calm before the storm ended abruptly into a renewed sense of hell. Seven deatheaters emerged from the woods and ignoring Harry turned on Dumbledore like a pack of rabid wolves. "Run, Harry!" Even in these forceful instructions, Dumbledore remained calm, but Harry would not obey and leave Dumbledore in this fight unaided. Harry had no control over what happened next. Dumbledore aimed his wand at him and shouted, "Wingardium Eggresso!" Harry , who had mounted his broom to fight the deatheaters side by side with the headmaster, felt his broom almost shoot out from under him. He had no control over the Firebolt. Dumbledore had sent him away from the fight. His broom did not come into his own control until he reached London's business district.

Harry stood in the rushing wind and rain with his wand stretched out in wet hands. Despite the cold, beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead as he waited for the inevitable attack from Voldemort or more deatheaters, or maybe even Dementors. Harry's mind tortured him as stood waiting to pounce like a cat at the first person or thing to attack him.

Harry saw Stephanie's car, once more on it's way to the clinic. Her voice called above the storm. "Harry, get in." It sounded like an order, but there was more in her voice. We have to get to the clinic. The tornadoes are headed this way and we could use all the help we can get." Harry wanted to help these people. Tyler pressed against the backseat window, imploring him to help, and Harry felt desperate. He couldn't go with them. Voldemort would kill them in his path to destroy Harry. "I, I can't!" Harry ran, dragging his broom down an alleyway, leaving the Golden's in their car, which had apparently stalled in the street in the large hail stones that now pelted the streets of London.

Making sure Tyler's family would not see him fly, Harry made up his mind that though he would receive no praise for it, he was going to do something noble, that no one would ever know about. He mounted his Firebolt and took off for the clinic, abandoning his first instincts to summon the Knight bus and seek help in Diagon Alley or somewhere he could find other wizards to help him. He knew Dumbledore would fight off deatheaters as long as Voldemort was not with them. With a tinge of panic, Harry knew Voldemort would no doubt be after him.

In his extreme haste to save Max and the other vulnerable patients at the clinic, Harry hadn't noticed the people who were definitely wizards and witches trying to redirect funnel clouds, shield muggle property from damage and just generally trying to do things they normally would never be seen doing because of the wizarding secrecy and concealment laws. Now, here they were, hitting funnel clouds with their wands like a muggle baseball game on a grand scale.

Suddenly it hit Harry fully that wizards were not allowed to interfere with mother nature. It all dawned on him. These storms had nothing to do with El Ninos or global warming or the like that the weather people had been discussing on the muggle news to explain the recent storms. The tornadoes and storms had been produced by Voldemort, not nature and Voldemort would not care how many people he had to kill to get to Harry.

It took a lot of powerful dark magic to make this phenominonon happen. Harry knew he had to leave populated areas. Voldemort would stop the storms only after Harry was caught or dead, but first, he had to save Max and the other animals. "Alohomora!" the doors of the clinic flew open. "Fortify!" Harry charged the walls with extra strength just as the window opposite him was sucked out, shattering on the sidewalk. "Reparo Fortify!" he yelled as the glass flew back into place.

Max looked up at Harry pitifully and Harry had a sudden selfish urge to take him and try to live hidden among the muggles, but he knew he was a marked target and if he if he did not stand and fight, Voldemort would take over the world anyway.

"Harry, you have to leave here. Voldemort's been here looking for you. He'll be back. He knows you're here. He knows about Max. He made me tell him."

"Who said that?" asked Harry, wheeling around, but no one was there.

"In here." Harry followed the voice to a long low aquarium. Tyler's garter snake had been speaking, and, being a parslemouth, Harry had understood easily. "If you stay, the bad dark man with red eyes will kill Tyler and everyone else including and especially Max." Harry had turned to run when Tyler and his family arrived, knowing that Voldemort wanted him and would kill anyone in the way. They did not see Harry, and figured that the door had burst open with the wind. Tyler went to each animal and spoke to them softly. Harry had no time to find out how the snake had known about his plight.

Catching sight of Harry, who had just flown from the back to the front doors, managing to look like he'd just arrived, they assured him that they had a basement, mistaking his reluctance to go there with them for fear of the storms. Thinking in his mind, ' you all have to get out of here,' he corrected himself. 'No. I have to get out of here.' Finding his voice, Harry explained, "I have to leave. You don't understand. Someone's after me."

"Harry. I'm not going to let your aunt and uncle hurt you. I knew I shouldn't have left you there. Calm down. You can petition the courts to let them have your aunt and uncle's guardianship of you revoked. We would..." Howard began, thinking that Harry was afraid of his family.

"I'm sorry!" Harry cried as he fled, leaving them to take the animals to the basement themselves. Harry mounted his broomstick around the corner, but could achieve no more than walking speed against the vicious winds. The wind was so strong, Harry's hair was slicked back and his mouth forced open revealing his teeth like some g-force test an astronaut would take.

A figure on a broomstick with the wind at his back approached quickly. Harry felt his breath sucked away. He could see two red slit eyes and the billowing cloak. Harry had never met Voldemort on a broomstick before. This was Voldemort's storm and though Harry's clothes were practically blowing off him, Voldemort perched eerily unaffected by the wind as though it were windless day. The horrifying scene in front of him made Harry, who in normal situations was superior on a broom, fall off his Firebolt and run blindly in the street, which was emptied now.

Voldemort moved to put the cruciatus curse on Harry immediately. Harry tried to block it, but failed, feeling it hit him in the back to fall onto the wet pavement in the middle of the street, his Firebolt still in the air. Harry wished for death. He had no strength in him. He had used all his strength to fortify the walls of the clinic against the tornadoes. The offer of a painless death from Voldemort seemed to have expired since last they had met. Voldemort poised himself over Harry, re-issuing his offer to end it now if he would denounce his parents, Dumbledore and name all the members of the Order Of The Phoenix. Harry had expected this. Voldemort had halted the curse to hear Harry's confessions. Harry laid on the pavement, muscles twitching, heartened to hear that Voldemort didn't already have this information.

In his weakened state, all Harry could think to do was to fake the names of the Order and throw a curse back at Voldemort. His mind was fogged from having endured the longest cruciatus curse in his life. He could remember only one spell. "Annilatus Insendium!" he rasped. Voldemort had not blown up like the machinery had done, but he did catch on fire. This gave Harry time to remount his broom and try to clear his head. Voldemort's cloak had erupted in flames, burning away completely, but not injuring Voldemort in the slightest. In fact, he looked like he'd had a mild barbeque accident.

The oxygen level dropped with each funnel cloud. There were many touch downs. Building windows were showering down on them. Voldemort put a protective spell on himself and watched Harry get pelted by large hailstones and shattered glass and flying debris.

Than the worst thing that could have happened did. Tyler came running into view behind Voldemort. "No! Tyler!" Harry screamed silently, for the wind had taken his breath and his voice. Tyler looked at Voldemort and somehow retained the presence of mind to run, despite having seen Harry flying on a broom. Voldemort, who had expected this less than Harry, was slow to react. He aimed a curse at Tyler and missed as Tyler sped into a building and up the left stairwell. "He'll be fun to play with later," taunted Voldemort as he did a charm opposite of Alohomora, thus sealing Tyler in the building to play with later.

Harry could not watch another innocent's death. "Please!" Harry pleaded, for resistance hadn't saved Cedric. Harry had refused to grovel the last time he did battle with Voldemort.

"Tell me Harry, what I want to know. You, of course will die, but maybe I'll just make slaves of your little friends, that Weasley boy and that pretty little thing, Hermione isn't it? And of course, I couldn't forget my dearest fan, Ginny. Once you are gone, I will establish my own government. The horrified silence from Harry prompted further punishment from Voldemort. "Perhaps we'll just start with these muggles. You seem to have a certain fondness for them. Honestly, you should have stuck with the dog." Voldemort aimed his wand at the vet clinic a block behind them. "Names, Potter!" He yelled as he launched a funnel cloud toward the clinic. Ginny's name more than the rest had engulfed Harry with dread, for he had seen her in the chamber near death, with Voldemort standing over her, making the dark lord's threat more powerful than ever on his already near nil hopes that somehow, this was all just a bad dream. But something about thinking of Ginny, gave him strength that he never knew he had, as he watched the funnel cloud race toward the vet clinic with his new friends inside.

"Fortify!" Harry managed to shout above the noise of the storm. The funnel cloud which should have flattened the building, still managed to blow the roof off, depositing it on the building next door. "Reparo, Fortify!" Harry had not known he'd possessed this strength. He felt like he'd lifted the roof back himself as he slumped back down onto the pavement, exhausted from the magic he'd just performed. Harry hated to hear himself beg, but he did it nonetheless. "Please, just leave them alone...I'm here." Harry felt as though he had lifted the roof of the building without magic. He feared he had no magical reserves left.

Apparently, the grovelling did not satisfy Voldemort. This was not what Voldemort had expected. He wanted more before killing Harry. The exhausted boy on the ground before him, showed him no sport, so Voldemort decided that there was no fear of Harry getting away, and, wanted to torture him first. With a bow to Harry, the dark lord disapparated and Harry knew where he had gone. The building Tyler had taken refuge in had been evacuated earlier, leaving Tyler it's only occupant. Harry felt he was ready to confess everything he knew to save this boy. He had parents. He'd be missed, but reality struck Harry and he knew that short of absolute escape, nothing would be able to save he and Tyler. He could tell Voldemort all he knew and still end up dead, leaving even the most powerful wizards and witches powerless to stop him. He didn't know why he had chosen today to start believing in divination, but he figured he would try to live to see another day. A day when the stars would be in favour for a victory for him.

Harry forced himself to get up from the pavement and run into the building. Having no strength left in himself, Harry flew up the polished marble staircases and he could see from the sixth floor landing, that Voldemort was on the seventh floor landing. He aimed his wand between the stairs at Voldemort's legs. Seeing that Voldemort had been just about to curse Tyler, Harry lost all nervousness about committing one of the unforgivable curses. Voldemort was not impervious to the cruciatus curse, but it did not leave him reeling on the floor in agony. It did however give Harry time to scoop up the shocked Tyler onto his broom and take off down the hallway.

"Avada-" Harry heard the killing curse as he turned another corner, looking back to see the polished marble shatter into dust as the curse hit it. Voldemort was done playing. He wanted Harry dead. Any information he could have extracted from him would been just gravy anyway. No traitor could prevail over him once Harry was dead anyway. Voldemort had enveloped them in a funnel cloud. The oxygen had been sucked out of the hallway. Harry had seen people perform the bubblehead charm and Hermione had learned it from Viktor Krum during their fourth year and now he wished that he'd listened more closely as she'd tried to teach him, instead of listening to Ron's incessant whining about how much time Viktor and Hermione had been spending together.

Just as Harry's head was getting too fuzzy to concentrate, Hermione's stern voice broke through the dullness. He followed her instructions, feeling a bubble head dome close over his head and seeing one sprout over Tyler's as well. He had paid more attention to Hermione than he'd thought. As they gulped in the fresh air gratefully, Harry noticed, with a thrill of horror, that Voldemort seemed unaffected by the lack of air. Was he beyond living flesh and blood? Like the living dead, he wondered, unkillable.

Tyler's garter snake which had been in his pocket, had stuck out his head and Tyler watched with fascinated horror as Harry and Voldemort seemed to stop everything to listen to the snake which he did not understand in the slightest. "Dumbledore sends a message to Voldemort. The destroyed dwelling has been rebuilt. The bond that dwells there has been restored. The stars have foretold that neither will have victory this night.

Tyler's snake disappeared into his pocket once more, as Voldemort in his wrath aimed at the chest pocket to kill. Harry rammed Voldemort with his large bubble head in the solar plexis and Harry found to his great relief that indeed the dark lord still felt pain, however he straightened up as soon as Harry had turned to check on Tyler. There was just no more power left in Harry. Voldemort's slit red eyes bent to stare one last time into his enemies as he picked Harry up by his collar and threw him out of the window to fall eight stories to his death. Something in Dumbledore's message had gotten through to him. "YOU-MOVED-OUT-OF-THAT-HOUSE!" Voldemort yelled in triumph, emphasising every word, knowing that at sixteen years old, Harry had no authority to move out of his home even if he'd wanted to. 'Still,' the dark lord satisfied himself, 'the job was done, the boy was finished.'


	4. Holding on by a Thread

A/N Here is where things finally start to heat up, and after this chapter, the whole cast will join the story and be there for the rest of the story. It gets better from here on out, so please keep reading and reviewing. I will keep updating once or twice weekly. Thanks!

Too weak to stop himself from falling, Harry fancied he had heard Dumbledore's voice. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry hit the ground no harder than if he'd fallen off a bicycle. He lay on his back, rain lashing his face, his glasses knocked crooked, looking up at Voldemort as the dark lord stared down at him. He could still see those cruel slit red eyes. Voldemort suddenly disapparated as Dumbledore bent over Harry. "Are you alright?"

"Ye, yes," Harry stammered, still in a fog, coming out of it to say, "Tyler... you've got to get Tyler out of there!" But Tyler was already looking out of the window horror stricken, trying to see Harry through the fogged up bubble head.

Dumbledore looked at Harry. "I have to leave you now. Stay with Tyler. Professor Snape is coming for you." Dumbledore disapparated, going after Voldemort, Harry surmised. He sat up, too weak to stand, thinking again, 'Professor Snape is coming for you'... ' Coming AFTER me is more like it.'

Tyler came running out of the building like it was on fire, and for all Harry knew, it could very well have been. He felt like at least the fight was over for now. Realizing, somewhat relieved, that at least this time, he hadn't felt the dark lord's emotions, despite even having been touched by Voldemort. This time, he had no idea what the dark lord felt, as he had in previous contacts, making him feel as though he'd gone mad. Still, he hadn't come out unscathed even this time. Harry felt his wand useless to his touch. He didn't have the strength to get up. He laid back down, feeling the rain drench him once more as more funnel clouds touched down around the streets nearby. Harry doubted now that he could raise his head even if a puddle deep enough to drown him developed under his head, which was a distinct possibility.

"Harry, You're alive!" an overjoyed but puzzled Tyler exclaimed. "What happened. Who was that? What's going on?"

Tyler was hysterical. Harry forced himself up for his sake. They still needed to take shelter from the tornadoes. Harry did not need to hide the Firebolt anymore. There was just no use now. Whatever memory charms had to be performed on Tyler later, Harry just couldn't help. He had to get them both safely out of there as the storms picked up brutally. Harry figured on taking Tyler to back to clinic, depositing him in the basement and returning to wait for Professor Snape, but the weather had other plans.

There was one funnel cloud that reminded Harry of Dobby's bludger of a few years back, which had been charmed to follow exclusively him. Harry had first though it a coincidence, but when he dodged the funnel cloud several times by changing directions, the cloud would than level buildings indiscriminately and resume their course towards the Firebolt. Harry couldn't sacrifice hundreds if not thousands of lives for two. He headed for an empty field. He could not use his wand. The funnel cloud wasn't as large as many of them had been, but if he didn't keep both hands tightly on his broom, he would be blown off with Tyler holding onto his waist, face buried in Harry's back.

Harry looked down as lightening streaked across the sky. He glimpsed a black cloaked figure raising a wand and suddenly the funnel cloud burst into one large flat wind gust and levelled off , just as it was about to overtake the Firebolt and swallow them up for good. The cloaked figure on the ground looked up as the Firebolt came crashing down to a stop beneath a large tree, which cracked at the base at the same time. Harry had just enough time to push Tyler out of the way as the tree snapped, branches falling on his chest and legs as he felt twigs searing across his face.

Harry could only gasp short pitiful breaths, which gave him almost no air. He couldn't feel his legs. He tasted blood. Tyler was thoroughly overwrought as a figure in a dark cloak approached. Fearing this person to be another enemy like the one he had just experienced in Voldemort, Tyler stood protectively, but frightened over Harry's trapped body, knowing that there was little he could really do if this person proved to have evil intentions. Through fogged vision and trickles of blood in his eyes, Harry could make out who it was that had come to them, Professor Snape. Snape knew immediately that Harry was seriously injured and assured him that he would get the fallen limbs off him right away.

Tyler somehow sensed that the man meant no harm as far as he could tell and that Harry must know him from somewhere, but still he shouted,"No! You'll kill him!" Tyler grabbed Snape, who had just aimed his wand at Harry and tried to fight him off valiantly.

"Get off me boy, or he will die!" said an agitated Snape, throwing off Tyler as easily as swatting a fly.

"I'm telling you!" Tyler shouted getting right back in Snape's face. "You can't remove both branches. You can loosen the one on his chest, but if you remove the one on his legs, you'll kill him. He'll bleed to death. The weight of that branch is the only thing holding the blood in. Harry was strangely aware of these proceedings. As much as he wanted to be free, he knew Tyler was telling the truth for some reason.

"Pro—Professor Snape-ahhh!" he half sobbed, as the pain from the attempt to speak took hold. "I—Listen to him-He knows." Harry knew that Tyler had been trying to make Snape obey him desperately, but even if Tyler could somehow mind talk to animals, it wouldn't work on humans, least of all Snape, who had been taught occlulmency to shut one's mind off from being read or controlled. Harry couldn't believe that Snape seemed panicked. Harry dimly wondered if Tyler had been successful. Snape had never taken orders from a school aged child before.

Through his own blinding pain, Harry could see that Snape had been doing battle with someone . His potions master walked with a limp and had unhealed cuts and bruises on his face and hands which were the only parts of him not covered with robes. Snape ran his hands through his greasy black hair nervously. Tyler knelt down next to Harry and put his hand on the only part of Harry's chest sticking out from under the log. He stood up with frustrated tears on his face. "I can't do anything for him-I can't do anything..."

Harry had drawn his last breath. He was passing out, hearing gurgling noises from his own mouth. Professor Snape, having made up his mind, blasted the log off Harry's chest, but left the log on his legs, deciding to believe Tyler for reasons he couldn't explain even to himself. Harry spluttered back into consciousness . He needed to cough, but he couldn't. His eyes were bulging. He could feel his lungs were filling with liquid, not air and he could feel himself drown. Harry had never seen Snape like this before. So unsure of himself, so panicked. He wondered why Snape wasn't helping him, than he thought, 'of course, he is just waiting for Voldemort to come and finish me off.'

But Snape did not have the posture of someone waiting to see him die. Snape seemed to be talking very fast, almost apologetically. "Harry, you know I am not a healer. I can't save you." He sounded like a student, explaining why he had failed a test to a teacher. Snape drew a flask from his cloak and poured some of the contents into Harry's mouth. Harry drew a full but painful breath.

Harry was becoming delirious looking up at Snape and Tyler. He felt himself go back to his first year, writing down Snape's lessons, heard Snape quote the list of things potions classes could teach and one stayed in his memory..."and even put a stopper in death." But Harry knew that the stopper in death he had no doubt just been given, usually only worked for a little while until real help arrived. He panicked now. "Spare your strength now Harry," Tyler ordered him , touching his shoulder and Harry calmed somewhat, though he didn't know why.

"Professor," Harry pleaded, "Please get me out of here." The pain was so intense from the weight of the great log on his battered body, that Harry no longer cared if he bled to death from having it removed improperly.

"Harry," Snape replied trying, but failing to sound soothing. For one thing, it had to be a bad sign that he had called Harry by his first name. "If I try to remove that log, it will kill you. This boy knows what he's talking about. I have seen it in his mind." This had astounded Harry, but Tyler knew it all along, for Snape had not read Tyler's mind, rather Tyler had forced his mind on Snape's.

Fearing that Voldemort would at any moment come out of the bushes to kill him, he said desperately, "But you can't leave me here!" The pain was engulfing him now and whatever Snape had given him to ease his breathing was wearing off. "You have to get help, please Professor. Get Madame Pomfrey, even someone else, please!" He choked now, going silent and ashen faced, almost ready to face his inevitable death.

Somehow feeling that Harry deserved an explanation, Snape revealed to him his worst fears. "I have been instructed not to leave you, under any circumstances. You do not understand, Harry. He knows you're dying." There, he'd said what Harry had known since had felt his ribs crushing in his chest. "Would I to bring you any closer to death, by attempting to move you, which this child believes I would, the Dark Lord will risk turning his back on his duel with Dumbledore to come here and finish you off. You cannot fight further. The dark lord knows this. Were it not for the headmaster, he would be here already. I cannot leave you to get help. Should Voldemort evade Dumbledore, I will be the only thing standing between you and a swift death blow. I could only give you a few more minutes of life before I too would be killed, but I have my orders."

Harry couldn't believe that Snape had sworn allegiance to protect him at his own peril. He felt perhaps Snape was just hanging around to finish him off, and this was why he would not free him from the logs. If death was coming tonight, Harry wished it would come soon. He would rather be blasted into oblivion than laying here like a sitting duck.

Harry lurched violently, falling into convulsions. He was dying-now. Snape leaned over him, forcing his eyes open. He stared down at Harry, uttering something Harry could not hear, nor did he want to. His last breath drawn, he saw one last fleeting glimpse of Tyler and Snape, who had laid their hands roughly on him and both seemed grimly resolved in what they were about to do. Snape invaded Harry's mind just as he had started to accept death and even feel at peace with it. So warm and pain free Harry had been, that he was furious when he heard Snape calling him back, forcing his mind open just as he had done in occlumency lessons.

Harry tried to ignore Snape's orders for him to fight. He just didn't want to. He wanted to sleep. Let the world take care of itself, he couldn't do it anymore. Destiny had chosen the wrong boy, he convinced himself, allowing himself at least a guilt free death. He had not stepped forward to lead the fight against the dark lord. It had been thrust on him, an innocent infant, fifteen years ago. The last time Harry had seen a clock, it had been eleven thirty. It must be passed midnight now. 'At least I didn't die on my birthday...' he faded further until into his head came a voice.

"Young sapling," an ancient voice called inside his head. It was the tree that lay across his legs, and it too was dying. " I am old and worn. It is time for me to leave my place to my seeds and join my forefathers in the forever forest." Harry heard creaking and groaning and suddenly he was moved to tears. Harry who still appeared dead to Tyler and Snape, felt a single tear fall across his cheek from his eyes. "Young sapling, you must listen to those who call you back. It is not time for you to stop sprouting leaves and go to your forefathers. Go back young sapling." Harry's delirium had him seeing many things including Snape and Tyler inside his mind. In his dreamlike state, Harry felt Tyler struggle to restart his now silent heart.

"Leave me alone, you're hurting me." Tyler took his hands off Harry and the pain left again, leaving the peace of death rushing back into Harry. "Don't feel bad Tyler. You didn't fail." Tyler's face was buried in his hands.

Harry, now pain free, but guilt ridden, heard the ancient voice speak again. "If you do not go back, his gift will be lost. He will never use it again. Tyler has never been able to heal human kind before, but the animals of this forest speak his praises to their young. Tyler cannot wholly heal you, but if you will fight, he might be able to keep you green until a human healer comes."

"You don't know what it's like. I can't go back. I won't."

"Think you, young sapling that I live in peace all the days of my life? Always there are humans polluting, plotting homes for themselves while usurping their fellow creatures from their homes without regards to see that they share some land with us? For as long as humans have inhabited this place, always the axe has stood above our heads while the humans decide our merits for their own purposes, and what is worse, that they face their own future peril with as little regard. No one can live a good life if they live it only for themselves, Harry Potter," and he was gone.

"Wait! I need to ask you something!" But now Harry was alone in this place.

Snape broke violently into Harry's brain. "Potter! I have not spent what little I may have left of my life for you to die like this. I will not be blamed! You will not ignore me!" Snape would not leave him in peace, Harry felt like Snape had the imperious curse on him. 'Blamed by Dumbledore for allowing me to get killed, or blamed by Voldemort for letting me die without it being at his hands, ruining his prophecy?" Harry wondered if he'd just died, if it would make the prophecy null and void and Voldemort would gain no strength, not having technically done the job of killing Harry himself. Now Harry felt even more angry at being called back. Tyler had been stunned back into action by Snape's shouting. Once again, he laid his hands on Harry's chest.

Harry felt like someone was stabbing him over and over again, the stabs coming with each and every painful heartbeat. His heart had been restarted. His voice didn't work as well as the mind speaking he had been doing, but he managed to get out what was on his mind. "You—" he choked in sobs, "I hate you. I swear if I live, I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

Snape, who was now goading Harry into more conversation to keep him conscious, replied, "Mr. Potter, I have no pleasure in nursing you. If it were up to me, I would leave you here to rot." Harry heard these words, but he thought Snape looked very relieved.

A helicopter appeared in the sky, and Harry who was just clinging to consciousness, became alarmed. The helicopter had landed in a space conveniently, maybe too conveniently made by the storm. Five people emerged, carrying loads of equipment towards them. Snape, who had not expected this, threw his cloak off into the bushes, apparently trying to disguise himself. "What happened?" a man who appeared to be a flight doctor asked Snape, as if the tree on top of Harry wasn't explanation enough.

"My son has been trapped under this log for over an hour."

"He's not your—"Tyler had begun as a mysterious coughing spell shut him up. Harry was very out of it now from blood loss and pain. He had assumed he had been dreaming again when Snape had claimed him for a son. He had tried to sound like a concerned parent, and if Harry hadn't known better, it sounded genuine.

The doctor examined Harry, all the while unbeknownst to him, with Snape's wand directed at his back.. He spoke in hushed tones to the paramedics, who were wiring Harry up to all sorts of machinery. They ripped his shirt open and put patches on his chest which were hooked to electronic wires to keep track of Harry's vital signs, which were failing fast. Harry had seen all this done on television, but Snape looked repulsed.

From Snape's point of view, he watched the muggles draw out a large long needle, attach it to a bag of some liquid (Snape wondered what potion this would be. None of the curative potions of any real strength were clear, he thought to himself) As they inserted the needle into Harry's forearm, explaining that it would help to keep Harry from going into shock again, a female paramedic mistook Snape's revulsion at their methods for concern for Harry and told him sympathetically that Harry was in very good hands. Harry felt nothing, but Snape did look concerned, and very green. Suddenly, Harry convulsed again, feeling his chest explode, as his eyes rolled back in his head..

"Desist!" Snape had pointed his wand at the muggles, but of course the act was lost on them, not knowing what a wand was. Snape, not knowing what a defibrilator was, thought Harry was being attacked. Tyler sprang up, grabbing Snape's wand arm down, and telling him that they were only trying to save Harry. They had to restart Harry's heart. Wham! Snape watched in horror as Harry's entire body jerked from the jolt of electricity the paramedics had just chorused into his heart. Harry's breaths were painful. He felt burnt. He struggled to speak. Why were they torturing him?"

Snape seemed shocked into inaction. He was listening to the beeps from the machine recording Harry's heartbeat, ignoring all else. Harry was now straining to hear a conversation between his muggle rescuers. He distinctly heard the words,'double amputation,' followed by, 'no other way,' and 'probably couldn't be saved even if performed at a hospital.' Snape was jarred back out of his silent panic by the increase in beeps from the machine. Harry was panicking. They were going to cut his legs off!

"Sir," We need a word," said a worried paramedic, leading Snape by the arm gently a little away from Harry's hearing range. Harry turned his head to see Snape sign a form and go to the edge of the woods to vomit. He was not a healer like Madame Pomphrey, he just did what he had to do.

"Tyler!" Harry ripped off the oxygen mask.

"I'm here Harry," Tyler soothed with tears running down his face.

"Save me, please Tyler. I know what you did to the animals at the clinic. Please don't let them take my legs." Harry knew wizarding medicine could regrow bones, but not entire limbs once they were severed from the body. He thought of Mad Eye Moody's wooden stump. At least Mad Eye had one leg.

"Please Tyler, just do whatever you did for that hurt fox."

"Harry my healing was only just enough to save your life and keep your heart beating as best I could. I've never been able to heal more than a scratch on a human before, but with you it was different. I reached your heart. Your heart's like a lion's heart. That's the only reason I could help at all, but you're mostly human-I just can't help you as much for some reason. It's not like anything else I've done. It's like you're part animal...but not enough for me to reach you fully. I tried Harry, you've got to believe me, I tried," Tyler explained in a pained voice, desperately trying to make Harry understand, as Harry hysterically began ripping the patches off his chest, gasping for breath and pleading desperately with someone to tell him what was going on. "Tell me the truth, Tyler—please, They're not gonna take my legs are they?" Harry struggled with the paramedics as much as he could, knowing what they were about to do to him.

"Oh, Harry! They've gotta do it! I-I can't fix them all. I tried. All your main arteries in your legs are crushed. They can't get you out without cutting-I know you're wizards now," Tyler said, indicating Snape and himself. "You shouldn't be so hard on him." Tyler meant Snape. "He's telling the truth. I saw it in his mind. He's not a healer. He would save them if he could, but he can't remove that log from off your legs. It's the only thing keeping you from bleeding to death. He's a potion's master, Harry. He really doesn't know how to save them."

"But-but I want to play Quidditch." Harry was just a frightened child now, not a wizard, not a grown up. As if giving Harry's 'dad' time with his son, the doctor cleared his throat, indicating that he was ready. Contact had been made with the hospital and the flight doctor was in contact with a vascular surgeon, ready to begin the gruesome task.

"Give us another minute." Snape sounded raspy and faint. He seemed to want to say something. "Look Harry, I know I've been hard on you." He sounded almost apologetic, even remorseful. "You have endured it and everything else that has been thrown at you. You will play Quidditch. You will walk—somehow."

"Yeah, like Mad Eye. My jaw's broken too," said Harry, only now just realizing this as yet a different mask was placed over his mouth, causing blinding pain to engulf his face. "Are you going to sign a form to have my face cut off too?" Snape who usually flew into a rage at even the first signs of cheek from a student, squeezed Harry's hand.

"Believe me, If there were any other way..." Snape told him desperately, getting ready for the inevitable.

"Deatheater-Liar!" Harry was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. Snape looked like he wanted to comfort him, but had no idea what to say, so as to instil a little more fight in Harry, he leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear.

"Potter! Don't you dare let the headmaster down. You have no idea what he—what we've all had to do—I promise you, if you give up and allow yourself to die..." As if he had any choice in the matter, "I will make the remaining Hogwarts years of Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger more excruciating than you can imagine, and I'll be happy to tell them that you thought of yourself only, to curl up and die like the coward you are. Like your father!" Harry knew with this statement that Snape was just goading him into fighting for his life, for even the heartless potion's master, knew that Harry's father had died trying to save Harry from the dark lord. Harry wanted to retort, but he was now restrained firmly and a fog was enveloping his senses.

Harry sank back now, giving up. He heard Tyler trying to give medical instructions to the doctor and the paramedics, who were patronizing him, but paying no attention. They advanced on Harry with their surgical masks on and Harry likened them to deatheaters. One of them told him he would be fine, which Harry was sure they had told many of their dead patients. "Now just try to relax." He could not believe they said this. Harry was struggling desperately now. Trying to buy himself more time, he pulled out his intravenous lines. The medics summoned Snape to try to calm him, while they once again hooked up the iv. For a Deatheater, Snape was very squeamish, and he did not look while this procedure was done. His oxygen mask was replaced by a new one with a curious smell. Harry could just see the label on the cannister. They were anaesthetising him. "Harry, just let go. Count backwards from ten."Harry tried to hold his breath, but he inhaled involuntarily when someone jabbed him with yet another syringe and he thought he heard Snape say. "Is that entirely necessary?"

"Please-stop-no—seven six five f-" Harry fell into nothingness, than dreams took him, first to evil places from his past, than, to one place he'd called home. People were pointing and staring at him, just like they had Mad Eye Moody. His legs from the knees down were pegs like Mad Eye Moody. Madame Pomfrey was talking to Ron as though Harry wasn't there. "Of course if he'd been brought to me first..." This was the same thing she had said after Professor Lockhart had made the bones in his arm disappear in a bungled attempt to heal Harry's broken arm in his third year. He thought he'd put in a bad night that night.

Madame Pomfrey continued much in the same manner. "Those barbarians had even wired his jaw shut. I managed to mend that but his face will be disfigured for awhile." Harry, at sixteen was a typical teenage boy, worried about even a breakout of acne. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he shattered it with his wand. The dream continued.

Harry was sitting in the great hall. The weird sisters were singing. Ron and Hermione were dancing, leaving Harry, who hadn't mastered his peg legs alone, watching...Ginny looked at him sympathetically as she danced by with Neville.

Now Harry was angry with Neville. " This could've been you if he'd chosen you!" he screamed to Neville, regarding the fact that Neville had come close to being the one of whom the prophecy spoke, the one who would be forced to kill Voldemort or be killed himself. The prophecy had spoken of two boys, born at the end of July, whose parents had three times thwarted the dark lord. Two boys had fit this description and Voldemort had marked Harry as his equal, making the prophecy Harry's own. Harry had pounded his thighs in his anger, causing his pegs to fall off, at which point the three Slytherins, Malfoy Crabbe and Goyle took advantage of the opportunity to antagonize him. They playfully limped around him, mocking him. Ginny tried to stop them but Harry yelled at her that he didn't need her pity and she turned away crying.

One dream faded to another. It was summer now. He was at the Dursleys. Here, he wore prosthetic limbs. Aunt Petunia couldn't stand any stares of curiosity, even if they were from a sympathetic neighbour who had just learned of his 'accident'. Aunt Petunia had told everyone who would listen that Harry had crashed a car while taking a driving lesson at school. Aunt Marge on the other hand had been told that Harry had crashed a stolen car while trying to escape from St. Brutus's Secure School for incurably criminal boys. "What are you supposed to do with him now?" Aunt Marge had written. "He's not even good for chores now." He left that dream, not very much surprised at the way things had worked out at number four Privet Drive.

Now, Harry was at a job interview, slightly older than he was now. "I'm sorry, son. Your grades are outstanding. You received more O.W.L.S and N.E.W.T.S. than even Hermione Granger, but to be an auror..." Harry knew what was coming next. "Well, it's a very physical job and with your obvious..." He indicated Harry's missing legs.

Harry didn't know where the dreams ended and reality began, but his eyelids felt like lead. His whole body hurt like someone had thrashed him to within an inch of his life, and for all he knew, they had. With a thrill of horror, he realized he could not open his eyes. They were taped shut. He heard whispered voices, but could not speak as he now felt a tube down his throat. He couldn't feel his legs. Someone was moving him. He thought he'd heard the word apparate, but no he was on a stretcher. He could hear the helicopter's whirling blades and felt the choppy winds.

Harry had never been a fan of anything that flew that didn't have magic in it. In perfect health, this flight would have made him extremely nervous. Now, however still under severe sedation, he just tried to hear the conversation over the loud chopper blades. He felt he had entered yet another dream. Dumbledore was here. The strange bits of conversation he could pick up, started as follows with Dumbledore addressing Snape. "I agree Harry needs to go St.Mungos immediately, but there is the problem with his having been treated by muggles. People in such serious condition generally have a higher percentage of survival when left to muggle medicine than if we try to switch them over to wizarding medicine. If only we'd gotten here sooner they would not have had to..."

"What? What!" Harry screamed desperately to himself. Would not have what!"

"But headmaster he will surely die left to these..." Harry could almost picture Snape glaring at the muggles, "people."

"As dire as his condition is, Severus I would normally have to agree with you that the medical care should change to wizarding methods. Right now the switch from muggle means to wizarding methods is almost worth taking the risk, however," Dumbledore paused and Harry could not believe that he would consider making Harry endure Muggle procedures rather than risk taking him off all these machines and simply getting a mediwizard to patch him up...well, what was left of him anyway. 'Dumbledore should know I would survive the reversal of care methods,' Harry thought angrily.

"However," Dumbledore continued after the long pause, Voldemort now knows that Harry only just clings to life. He can feel the weakness, feel his life leaving him. He will no doubt have put sensory charms all around St. Mungos. He will be looking for any unusual activity or stir up of activity around any wizarding medical facility, and he will sense it. There is still the connection..." Dumbledore sighed as what he said next went against any bonds he had with Harry. "Therefore, Harry will be treated in the normal muggle fashion." The gavel had fallen. Harry felt like Dumbledore had just sentenced him to death. He gained what hope was rashioned out with the next statement. Was Snape showing off for Dumbledore or had he just come up with a brilliant scheme?

"Headmaster, might I suggest that Mr. Potter be brought to St. Mungos in case the worst should happen with the muggle medicine. A concealment charm could be placed around a certain portion of the building, so as to throw off anyone searching for the boy, we could spell a wing of St. Mungos into a muggle facility. This is not what he would be looking for." Snape said this with the amount of knowledge in his voice to convince Dumbledore that he of course would know what Voldemort would be searching for. Voldemort would of course expect nothing but the best for Harry Potter and that meant wizard care. "Agreed, Professor." Harry had assumed that Dumbledore and Snape had been talking in a silencing spell so as not to agitate the muggles. He now listened as the two wizards placed memory charms on the medics and the doctors so they would remember nothing of this night, and Harry too, fell into nothingness.


	5. Out of the Forest, but not out of the Wo

A/N As promised, some of your usual characters, including the Weasleys, who all figure prominently in this story, as well as everyone else you already know...so hopefully you will read and review? LOTS of Angst to come!

Earlier, at Grimauld Place, before any news of the attack had reached the Order's headquarters, an argument had broken out among Fred and George and Mr Weasley. "We're of age!" George insisted in angry frustration, though his tone still held a measure of deep respect for his father. He was right. He and his twin brother Fred were out of school and of legal age to join the Order Of The Phoenix. The only thing in the world holding them back from this honour, was Mrs Weasley.

"Look boys, I know you're anxious to join the Order, and I technically don't have the right to ask you not to join, but I'm asking you for me...for your mother," Mr Weasley corrected, but in essence, if they agreed to wait one more year to join, it would make Mr Weasley's life a whole lot easier. Mrs Weasley tried, but failed, not to nag or intrude, but the twins felt like their wings had been clipped. They had looked forward to two things after school, owning their own joke shop, which they had accomplished, and joining the Order Of The Phoenix.

"I know it seems unreasonable to you now boys," Mr Weasley sighed, "but believe me, you will understand when you have children of your own."

"Except for one thing. We're not children anymore," Fred stated firmly.

"No, I suppose not," Mr Weasley said, as if seeing them properly for the first time, in a very long time. Still the jokers, his sons had grown up. Bill and Charlie were one thing, but when did this happen?

"Nine months boys, that's all I'm asking. It'll give your mother time to deal with Percy, time to get prepared a little more for what's to come. She's already having kittens over yours and Ron's and Hermione's pledge to Harry. She's mad at everyone, especially Dumbledore for allowing such a pledge ceremony to take place in the first place. Of course, Ron and Hermione will have already had such a pledge in their hearts anyway, they've been through so much with him, it's almost all ceremonial in nature. Deep down, your mother knows that, but to be a full fledged member of the Order, means that you could be sent directly into the line of fire. The pledge to Harry personally, is different, in that it only takes effect if they are actually with Harry at the time of a life threatening crisis, and in that case, could not escape danger anyway. They are not old enough to be sent to his side otherwise, like a real Order member."

"But we are," Fred said again.

"Look, Fred, George, we've, that is to say your mother has done the math. We have a family of nine. In a war...how many do you think are going to come out of it at the end? To put it into perspective, we've lost four Order members since last year," Mr Weasley said, rubbing his forehead.

"So, she wants to practically adopt Harry, but she doesn't want us to join the Order to protect him. Explain the logic in that to me," George insisted. They had lived with Harry. Their parents had only brief glimpses into his life. Mr Weasley could see the truth in this when Fred added,

"And than there's Ron to consider. He's always with Harry. What happens to one will likely happen to the other. We'd be protecting him too, and Harry has no brothers to look after him. Voldemort saw to that by snuffing out his parents, and besides, we're more his age. We'd be around him more.

"Oh I get it, that's why she doesn't want us joining," George said, in sudden comprehension.

"You've got it all wrong boys. Harry is like our family now, swelling our number to ten. He is in terrible danger, we don't have to tell you that. Then there's Charlie. His work is as dangerous as it could be with all those dragons he works with so far away from home..." The twins could tell now, that it wasn't just their mother who worried for them. And Bill...a curse breaker for Gringots. What is it with you boys? You sniff out danger wherever you can find it...look at Ron..." The twins stared open mouthed at their father. He hadn't meant to say it as it had been taken, but no doubt was in their minds that he meant Ron's friendship with Harry was the most dangerous path any of the Weasleys had taken yet.

Fred and George would never tell Ron this to his face, but they had long admired Ron's bravery in this. Ron tried not to think about the fact that Harry always seemed to attract danger. Mrs Weasley entered the room, "Well?" she asked, bracing for the answer.

Fred looked at George like there was still some debate going on. The looked at her, but for being the smart mouthed, outspoken ones in the family, they relented in relative silence, not however letting their displeasure at being talked out of joining the Order go unnoticed.

"We're joining on April First, our nineteenth birthday. We'll concentrate on the shop for now, but we want you to know if things go off before than in a big way, we won't sit idle.

'No, of course not, you're Weasleys." She hugged them very tightly. They needed to get some air.

"I wonder sometimes about her," George mused. "If we weren't a matching set, if she'd let one of us join?" Actually, this was a valid question. Fred and George had always been very close. Where one was, the other usually wasn't far away, and it had been that way all their lives. It therefore stood to reason, that like Ron and Harry, if either of them was killed, the other wouldn't be far behind. It was a mathematical certainty that the Weasleys would lose more family members because of the size of their family. At least they could take comfort that they had been asked to refrain from joining for emotional reasons, rather than practical ones. Mrs Weasley had never really taken much stock in their life's ambition to own a joke shop, but they knew she loved them, despite all the lost nights of sleep she'd endured over them for everything from their experiments to their grades at school.

At least the twins had been enlisted to research products that the Order may find useful, and this at least gave them a sense of duty. The most left out, was Ginny. She had been the one person whom Harry had personally rescued, who wasn't allowed even the smallest of sworn services to him. She had cried, begged and pleaded, to her parents to let her take the oath that Ron and Hermione and the others had taken, but she had been turned down flat. She, like Fred and George, made a promise to herself that she would pay Harry back. She had been so scared that Harry would die right then and there in the chamber of secrets, all because of her, that she had been obsessed with protecting him ever since. There was something else, something she would never admit, that by fifteen, her feelings for him hadn't changed. She didn't know whether it was just a crush, pity, hero worship as Ron had put it, or something else, something real. Either way, she vowed not to worry him about it. He had his plate full.

No one at Grimauld Place knew yet what ominous things had transpired in London. A head emerged from the fire, summoning all available Order members, and they all knew the only thing this could mean was that the blood protection afforded to Harry during his time with his relatives, had failed. Everyone was incredulous that Grimauld Place hadn't been the first contact in the emergency, but now, there was a desperate scramble to apparate out.

"Stay here," Mrs Weasley ordered the ashen faced Weasleys...and take care of everyone," she said to the twins, with a pop as she and Arthur apparated away.

Harry woke not knowing how much time had passed. His throat was raw and he didn't seem to be breathing on his own. He was too groggy to wonder at this. He had stopped moving, so he knew the helicopter was gone, but where was he? Harry heard a door open, and heard Snape telling Dumbledore that Harry was heavily sedated. He than told Dumbledore that he would resume his guard duty. Somehow, though his eyes were still taped shut, Harry could tell what was going on. He heard Professor Snape sit down heavily and sigh, like he was exhausted and disappointed. "You did all anyone in the Order could have done, Severus. You should be proud. Harry did not lose his life. You did what you had to do. Here Dumbledore was consoling Snape while he was laying here with no legs, no future. "Severus, you are flesh and blood. You will leave here to rest. You will do him no good if you are too tired. I know you feel responsible, but you cannot just sit by his bedside. If it is meant to be, he will live, if not..."

"Yes, headmaster." Harry heard Snape's robes swishing out the door.

Harry surmised he had been here, wherever here was for about a day. He still could not communicate and wondered if he ever would again. He wondered why he was still in so much pain. Madame Pomfrey had always been able to at least get the pain down to a dull roar.

Fear gripped him as people entered his room...lots of them. "Trainees," began a voice, but he was greeted with gasps of horror and astonishment. "What is this!" Harry felt someone poke his forearm and he heard a thud. "Ms. Ketchel has fainted. Remove her. You have been brought here to witness muggle procedure. You must consider yourselves fortunate in that you attend a teaching hospital. Most fully qualified healers have only seen this in ancient healing texts.

"It's cruel to keep him like this." Apparently, Ms. Ketchel had recovered, and was voicing her horror at the sight him.

"I assure you, Ms. Ketchel, we do not keep him like this for display purposes."

"You have all no doubt studied the effects of magical removal of these devices. Many people have died this way, we do not know why. Perhaps they are already in such weakened states-in any case more research is needed, and indeed is already underway. A host of healthy volunteers at the academy of medical ethics is trying methods now. They did try, bless them."

"We can administer some pain management medication, not in the traditional way however. This device is inserted into this tube which feeds directly into his veins...Ms. Ketchel Please." Harry heard another thud. The sudden cessation of pain made Harry pass out again with relief, as felt something cold flow into his forearm.

Harry came to upon hearing someone apparently reading the meaning of the word coma from a dictionary. Harry was conscious as far as he could tell, if indeed, this part at least was not yet another dream. He was conscious on a level not perceptible by muggles or wizards.

"Come on Ron, you'll have to face him sometime. What if he doesn't make it, don't you want to even say goodbye?" Hermione's voice sounded small and scared.

"Hermione, he's not going to die! Only mom said he really looks really bad... maybe I should just remember him as he was."

Ron swallowed hard and opened the door after greeting Professor Lupin who was on door watch. Hermione who had been strong in the corridor, now burst into tears, seeing Harry for the first time in over a month. Ron's jaw dropped. He was speechless.

"It's OK Ron" Harry heard them move closer. " These things are normal."

"Hermione" he exploded "This is BARBARIC!" He took out his wand ready to extricate Harry from the contraptions.

" No Ron... You can't! Even the healers can't . We just have to wait."

"Wait for what Hermione? Wait for them to bleed him with leeches?"

Hermione being muggle born had seen these devices before. She tried to make Ron understand. She took Harry's hand and squeezed it gently. It was the first time someone had touched him just for the sense of communication and not to just treat him medically, or to take his pulse..

He felt her warmth and pictured her face, but he needed Ron to say something. It was important to him that he could hear acceptance in Ron's voice. Would he feel the same about him without legs? Then something happened Harry told himself couldn't be possible.

"What are those white clay things on his legs, Hermione?"

"Legs! Did he say Legs!" Harry thought frantically before the dam machine started beeping faster in his excitement. He wanted to yell to Ron, but he still couldn't move or talk. An alarm sounded and he heard mediwizards entering the room, ordering Ron and Hermione out into the hall.

Fearing something drastically wrong was going with Harry, Hermione fell into Ron's arms sobbing. Harry felt another jab and fell away as he felt his heart slow down forcefully.. He had wanted to hear, what was it about his legs? Had he just been dreaming? He couldn't feel them. The next voice he heard, he thought was Stephanie's. It was. What was she doing here?

"You have consented to memory charms when you have finished your stay with us, correct?" asked the same head mediwizard that Harry had heard earlier. Whatever they had given him to slow his heart, had also slowed his already dulled senses.

"Yes Sir." Apparently Stephanie had consented to be a consultant in Harry's care.

"Please explain to us your theory." Clearly Stephanie felt inadequate next to healers like these. She had had a tour of the facility, marvelling at what she had seen these people could do, from charming cataracts off eyes to healing large gashes which would have taken hundreds of stiches to close if performed by muggle doctors.

"I'm an animal doctor.." she began, feeling nervous.

"No nobler profession," he reassured in return.

"Okay, you feel how cold his feet are?" Stephanie asked the mediwizard.

"FEET! I HAVE FEET!" Harry thought frantically. There was that damn alarm again. The mediwizard made to jab his arm again. He could feel his grip and could hear the bottle being filled.

"Wait please sir,"

"Harry dear, can you hear me?"

"Yes—Yes— please hear me back!" Harry pleaded to himself. He felt his eyelids fill blindingly with light as tape was removed from his eyes. The machine beeped furiously.

"Harry, calm down. Were here. Everything's fine. It's Steph! Harry don't struggle, let the machine do the work. It's breathing for you. Your lungs are damaged. You're going to be okay. They're gonna fix you soon... Your alright for now." Harry tried to calm down, but couldn't. "Harry you'll get better faster if you listen to us. This is not an ideal situation, but you will come out of it fine." Harry understood only bits and pieces of what Stephanie was saying to him. He fought to gain control of himself. The beeping slowed, but was still abnormally fast.

"That's right Harry, just relax," Steph was reassuring.

Harry heard Tyler come to his bedside. "Can I try mom please? They said it wouldn't hurt him."

"Yes go ahead Tyler, but he's not an animal, it may not work." Apparently Tyler had not told anyone about what had taken place in the woods.

Tyler tried to reach Harry's mind, but Harry was too groggy to reach out in this manner, and without Snape it just wasn't working, but he felt a peaceful calm fall on him that didn't feel like death for the first time since all this happened. The sleep he got this time strengthened him more than any yet.

Harry could see the shadow of light as the next day arrived. Ron and Hermione were there. "His spine was swollen," he could hear Hermione explain to Ron. "The medicine the muggle healer gave him took it down. His feet are warm. That Stephanie is wonderful. It was her idea that it had been what had been wrong all along."

Ron still felt very anxious about the fact that Harry was not being treated with the finest wizarding medicine available. "First they thought his back was broken. I don't know why they couldn't use magic to at least have a peek inside him. They had to get one of those x-way machines. Primitive really" he grumbled on Harry's behalf, not impressed in the least.

"X-Ray" Hermione corrected him

"At least Harry had someone out there with him when it happened"... Ron looked somewhat upset that it hadn't been him.

"Ron, you know we couldn't be there" but she too had a pang of shame in her voice.

"Have you met that Tyler yet?" Ron asked

"No, but Dumbledore seems to really like him doesn't he?"

Harry didn't care about anything. He had legs. They hurt and he couldn't move them but they were there!

This time a larger hand gripped his hand, and squeezed "Harry we know you'll pull through" Griffindor wouldn't be the same without you."

Harry had been so afraid, that he had forgotten that other people cared for him. They must have been going through a lot too. Harry forced his eyes open and squeezed Ron's hand back. "Hermione he's awake!" Ron nearly pulled his hand off the bed in his surprise "Maybe we should call someone."

"No, let's keep him to ourselves for a minute." It took them only seconds to establish the blink once for yes and twice for no.

Harry should we call someone?—Two blinks for " NO." Harry was just grateful to see them here and unharmed.

For having wanting to communicate with Harry face to face since they had left Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione were strangely silent. They looked at one another then at Harry.

"Does it hurt, Harry?" Ron asked indicating the ventilator. Harry wanted to lie, but Ron would be able to tell, he always could-one blink, "Yes."


	6. Will We Have to Say Goodbye?

A/N Harry is going through so much... Lots of visitors...but will he live, or has he been beaten? Voldemort is never far away, waiting to find out... Please keep reading and reviewing. There is so much more to come...

"I'm so sorry we couldn't be there for you," Ron told Harry, holding his mostly unresponsive hand. "When we heard what had happened, the entire order, the ones that weren't already on active duty, left at once. We were forbidden by Professor McGonagall to leave. We would've saved you Harry but— we couldn't leave and no one would tell us where you were or what was happening..." It had been an ordeal Order members as well as Harry's friends.

Harry had never wished they were there during his ordeal. The thought that they might be safe somehow had helped him. He didn't feel angry, he just felt grateful to see them again. He thought he'd never talk to them again.

His eyes were unfocused somewhat from the darkness they had been exposed to. He could see tears on both their faces. He felt tears in his own eyes. They actually felt good, they had been very dry.

His body felt so heavy. His right arm was taped to a board, his left was impeded by a large cuff around it. Ron grabbed a tissue and wiped Harry's eyes. Harry was grateful. He didn't want anyone to see him cry, but having to be looked after was a very uncomfortable feeling. Ron immediately started talking about Quiddich and Harry was grateful for the manly speech. There was no point asking Harry what had happened, he could only answer yes or no.

Harry forced himself to remain calm. He didn't want anyone rushing in and calling off the visit. He gathered his courage and dared to look down. It hadn't been a dream, his legs were still there. Still looking down, Harry's brow furrowed as he tried to move them. His eyes grew wide with fear when he found he could not. The machine started beeping again and Harry was furious with himself for not staying calm. In rushed the medi-wizards followed by Stephanie.

"He's awake!" exclaimed one of the trainee medi-wizards and starred at Harry as though he'd just found a live dinosaur. Hermione and Ron exchanged resigned glances . They shot a sympathetic look and prepared to be shooed out. Stephanie just asked them to stand back a bit while she spoke with Harry.

"Welcome back, Harry." she smiled down at him, being the only medical personal to refer to him by anything else but , 'the patient,' or worse, "Oh my stars, did you see that!"

Hermione, who for the first time had no advice to give on the subject of Harry's care, told Stephanie, "We've established blink once for yes and twice for no."

A mediwizard who looked positively ancient scolded Hermione and Ron. "You should have informed us immediately when he regained consciousness ."

"Oh, I don't think it'll make any difference," Stephanie assured them back.. Now turning her attention back to Harry, she told him to calm down a little more forcefully. She gave him something for the pain and the result was almost instantaneous. She went to end of the bed as she saw Harry stare down at his legs. She uncovered his toes and pricked his feet with a clean syringe. Ron winced just watching this, but Harry gave no indication that he had felt anything at all. Harry hadn't seen the pin. He thought she had merely looked at his feet.

"Okay," she said though her voice didn't sound the same. "Can you feel your feet at all, Harry?" He looked uncertain for a minute before answering yes. His feet felt cold to him. Stephanie asked him to perform simple tasks with his arms and hands, such as squeezing her hands. His arms felt like clumsy weights, but they worked. She looked immensely pleased. Harry looked at her pleadingly for answers. "Harry, you're doing fine," but there was a hesitation in her voice as though if the situation were not so grave she would have asked, "do you want the good news or the bad news?" "Harry dear, you've suffered a great trauma to most of your body. You've just begun to heal. We need to wait until some more of the swelling goes down to find out if..." She stopped there. "You're going to be fine. I'm sure you are," but when she left she was in discussion with the ancient mediwizard about, 'letting some fluid off.'

Harry spent the next half hour tuning out Ron and Hermione's reassurances. He was concentrating so hard on moving his feet, he had broken out in a sweat. His friends left only when he fell asleep almost two hours later.

On the fourth day of what Harry thought of as his incarceration, Hagrid arrived, apparently not quite understanding or believing what muggle medicine involved. He had brought his usual get well soon assortment of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans, fizzing wizbees and chocolate frogs and his specially home made rock cakes. His eyes fell on the ventilator and intravenous and the casts on Harry's legs. When he looked down at him, Harry felt like a small child as he had in the woods. He had been somewhat composed until Hagrid got there and than felt like a child who had fallen from his tricycle and was fine until his parents rushed over to say 'there there,' and than cried profusely for comfort.

Hagrid looked like he wanted to pick Harry up and he squeezed his hand so hard that Harry felt he might break one of the few remaining unbroken bones he had left. Harry had seen Hagrid the night he had been sent to Azkaban prison for a crime he hadn't committed and he had seen him after his many battles from trying to tame his giant brother Grawpy. Tonight, he looked worse. His eyes were swollen. He had plainly been crying and losing sleep. Somehow Hagrid had always looked timeless to Harry. Now he was beginning to show his age.

"Ah Harry, I shed've been there to protect yeh," Harry felt guilty for putting him through this. Hagrid had always felt somewhat responsible for Harry. After all, it had been he who had plucked him from his ruined house fifteen years ago. After the initial shock of seeing Harry like this, a peaceful silence fell between them, than Hagrid, who had been searching for something to say during the awkward one sided conversation, and who wasn't the best at keeping a secret said, "So, Fang seems to like his new companion. Max seems like he'll work out jus' fine. Been learnin' how to chase gnomes out o' me pickle orchard." Harry was amused as he pictured Hagrid putting a charm on his cucumbers to make them grow into pickles without all the manual labour. "'course yeh can visit 'im any time you like and when yer done yer N.E.W.T.S. O' course 'es yers." Trust Hagrid to bring him the news which would cheer him up more than anything had yet. Suddenly the fact that he couldn't eat the goodies that Hagrid had brought didn't bother him so much anymore. Max was safe.

Hagrid did not leave until Harry was asleep. On the way out he talked to Professor Lupin who had stopped in to ask him how things were going with arrangements for Harry's return to Hogwarts or the Burrow. Hagrid answered with a sad shrug. "Well, with all this muggle medicine catastrophe, he won' be goin' nowhere will he? Dumbledore says it's likely he'll be here all ruddy summer, poor lad."

"And has Dumbledore found a way to extend a muggle building facade on St.Mungos's yet? Tonks had to fight off two Dementors that made it past the front desk already on her first night shift last night."

"Yeah, he's come with a kind of extension of the wards from Privet Drive... them Dursleys," Hagrid said with contempt, "will be arriving tomorrow at noon. Dumbledore feels that Vol-you-know-who won't be looking for him in a muggle facility and in order for Harry's blood protection from his Aunt to be valid, Harry has to have a certain amount of contact with them, 'specially with their homestead being gone an' all. Than there's the fact that his relatives would never agree to the visit if they thought they had to come to a wizard hospital.." Hagrid shook his shaggy head as he continued. "They don' care about 'im, only they've been threatened."

No one had prepared Harry for his first visitors of the day. He thought the medicine was making him loopy when he saw Professor Moody dressed as a muggle cleaning person, pretending to polish the floor outside his room. All of the trainee mediwizards were now sporting white coats with stethoscopes tied around their wrists. Clearly, they had no idea what these contraptions were for. Stephanie did a quick demonstration of the proper wear of the device.

Harry was taking all this in quietly, but was greatly disheartened when someone came in and magically removed the sky reflective ceiling. It had been just like the one in the great hall at Hogwarts, a get well gift from Dumbledore himself. It was replaced with a simple white tile ceiling and a window appeared, letting in a dull light through closed blinds. Professor Moody peaked his head in the door, looking at Harry's bewildered expression. "Don't worry laddie, we'll put it to rights soon as they're gone. Believe me, I've spent some time in this place and anything to cheer the place up..." 'Of course,' thought Harry, with all of Professor Moody's obvious lasting bodily damage, he had endured many months of hospitalization as well. Harry couldn't help but think that the mediwizard had done Professor Moody a disservice in that his leg was missing as well as one of his eyes which had been replaced with a magical glass one that could see out the back of his head. He wondered if he would come out of here any better than Mad Eye Moody as he had been called since his injuries.

Stephanie approached his bed, telling him that Professor Dumbledore had asked him to endure this visit for reasons which he knew very well. As the soft lights of the torches were extinguished and replaced with the cold fluorescent bulbs, the room began to resemble a regular muggle hospital room, as Harry heard familiar terse voices somewhere out in the hall.

"Well, here we are, room three, ward four." It was Aunt Petunia's voice.

"Can't I just wait in the cafeteria?" Dudley could be heard saying lazily.

"No. That—that person said we three must visit twice and than he can go back to that school of his and leave us in peace for another few seasons."

"A few seasons," Harry thought. " If Dumbledore thinks I'm going back there one more time he's got another thing coming" Harry forced himself to be calm, not wanting to give the Dursleys the satisfaction of seeing him in this weakened state.

It was apparent that Uncle Vernon had just learned that this was a private ward. "I'm not paying for this. He should be in shared ward." Harry could hear the hatred in his uncle's voice.

"Vernon, please don't make a scene," Aunt Petunia could be heard begging. She pointed to the nearby 'nurses' at the ward desk. "People will think we haven't the means to pay for a private hospital." Indeed, Dumbledore had seen to it personally that the Dursleys had received a very large bill for services rendered to Harry. It was all part of his concealment plan for Harry. Of course, the money was to go to muggle charities, particularly a fund to pay for more search and rescue helicopters like the one that had responded to give emergency medical treatment to Harry.

The Dursleys had not been prepared for just how extensive Harry's injuries were. They fell silent as they all surveyed him. Stephanie, having the most muggle medicine knowledge, volunteered to act as liaison between the 'hospital' and the Dursleys. She stood by ready to answer questions, though she had been warned that likely, Harry's relatives would show little concern.

"Oh..." stammered Aunt Petunia, clearly disconcerted.

"Is he going to die?" whispered Dudley, staring at Harry, who was pretending to be asleep.

"He's not out of the woods yet." Stephanie answered quite truthfully.

"How much is all this gong cos—ouch!" began Uncle Vernon, getting a kick in the shins from Aunt Petunia. He tried another avenue to get his point across. "How badly injured is he?" He had changed his voice to one of concern, seeing Stephanie's hands on her hips.

"His ribs are broken, back and front. His right lung has been punctured by a bone fragment. Clearly, Stephanie believed Harry was sleeping as well as no one else had told him the extent of his injuries, nor did they want him to know at this point. "We've got him on a ventilator to keep them inflated and we've been suctioning off fluid buildup continuously" Now Harry knew what the gross sucking noises had been.

"Ehm, I see." Uncle Vernon sounded anxious. This sounded expensive. Stephanie looked at Harry to make sure he was still asleep before continuing. "His legs have been broken in several places. He's suffered a broken jaw, cracked skull, obviously concussion...and" She actually thought she had to prepare the Dursleys for the worst news kindly. "Um, the worst damage has been to his spine. The spinal cord itself hasn't been severed, but there are fragments of bone causing pressure on it, which has lead to what we hope is only temporary paralysis. We won't know the extent of permanent damage until he is stable enough for more surgery."

Now Harry opened his eyes as everyone was staring him. Not wanting to speak to Harry, Uncle Vernon stammered, "he's awake- shouldn't you sedate him or something?" Clearly they thought Harry would magically pop up completely healed and curse them all for their ultimate betrayal, which had led to all of this. When he did not, something seemed to change about Dudley's demeanor. When Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had left, muttering their sympathies, Dudley lingered behind, asking for a moment alone from Stephanie. She glanced out the door to Professor Moody, seeking permission to consent to this unusual request. Mad Eye nodded his approval, making sure the door was open a crack to allow his magical eye to keep an eye on Harry.

Now, beyond being left alone with Dudley, Harry was shocked at the revelation that Dumbledore or whoever was supposed to be looking after him, was actually going to let someone operate on him! He was more than willing to take his chances on dying while being switched to wizarding medicine, even thought the odds were not in his favour. He had no idea how important it was that he appear muggle in every way. Harry was sure that Dudley, his worst tormentor next to Draco Malfoy, was up to no good, and now he had no defence at all.

"Harry, listen," said Dudley, looking him right in the eyes, something he had never done before, "Some guy, wizard I guess, came by and told mom that now that our house was restored, all of your personal effects have to be stored there." He took a deep breath as if he was about to confess something. "Before we left to come see you, I took your wand...I was going to tease you with it...I...didn't realize how hurt you really were. I mean we're always getting reports from your Madame Pomfrey at your school about things like your arm bones and stuff...They always just popped you back together...Dad always just smirked about it at least being free...and you know mom...unless it was me..." Dudley looked truly ashamed.

"Look Harry, I saw a side of mom and dad this year. I know they were never good to you, and I was no better. I could use the excuse that I didn't know better when we were younger-and I swear I didn't Harry." He reached out and to touch Harry's hand, but drew it back when Harry's eyes narrowed and he withdrew his hand under his covers. One pity trip wasn't going to make up for a lifetime of misery. "I know you hate me. You have every right to, but like I said, I got your wand to torment you, but, well, here it is." He thrust the wand into Harry's hand. "Maybe you can heal yourself with it," he suggested, clearly not knowing anything about wands or magic. Harry gripped his wand like a teddy bear given to a child for comfort. He defiantly felt safer with it. If those nutters came near him to take him for muggle surgery, he could fend them off. Dudley gazed at Harry and left without another word. Harry didn't know what he would have said to Dudley if he could have spoken now, whether he would thank him or yell at him, but at least a small part of him believed his cousin had been sincere for the first time in his life.

"I'll just take that than," growled Mad Eye Moody, entering Harry's room, janitor uniform and all. Harry had the will to hang on to the wand, but not the strength. Now he hated mad Eye as he felt the wand slip from his grasp. Moody left to send the wand back to number four Privet Drive, explaining that when he felt better, even in another week, he might have it back.. "Harry, I once tried to heal myself out in the field, he indicated, pointing to his magical eye that at the moment lulled in it's socket, looking at Harry with sternness, but also sympathy and understanding.

'So that's what happened,' thought Harry, making a mental note to tell Ron and Hermione about this new revelation. Apparently, Professor McGonagall had night shift guard duty for the weekend. She arrived early Saturday morning with an assortment of books for Harry which would hover and turn pages with the blink of an eye. Harry groaned inwardly. 'Even on death's door she wants me to study,' he mused. But the books were nothing of the sort. There were popular music magazines with pictures of the weird sisters on the cover and there were Quiddich Today magazines, and yes, it was inevitable with Professor McGonagall, one entitled 'wizarding careers in modern times; volume one by Lacy Velvet. Harry rolled his eyes at this one, but it made him somewhat more reassured that he was going to live long enough to choose a career, at least in her eyes anyway.

"Harry," she started. She usually called him Mr. Potter, warmly, but rather formally. Now all formality disappeared as she bent next to him and actually kissed his cheek. He would have expected this from Mrs. Weasley, and now he'd thought of it, where had she been during all of this? She had always fussed heavily over any bumps or bruises. "Are you in much pain, dear? She asked, sounding rather guilty, knowing that Harry had found out that no one could be permitted to perform a relief spell, or risk breaking the one cloak of protection surrounding Harry. Harry didn't like lying, but he couldn't hurt Professor McGonagall. He blinked 'no' and she seemed much more at ease.

Professor McGonagall didn't usually give out much personal information, but as the conversation was one sided, more came out than she'd intended. "I've heard your prognosis, Harry, and given your penchant for figuring things out, I guess you know too."She looked down at him, her glasses on her nose, like she knew he had already heard what he was not supposed to know. Harry cast his glance towards his feet, admitting he knew everything all too well.

"Harry, wizarding medicine isn't perfect. If I thought Poppy could transfer you safely from these machines to quicker more pain free treatment, believe me I would have done all that was in my power to have it done, but I must agree with the mediwizards here. There is no other way. If only it were not for the extreme security concerns, to hide you in muggle fashion...even so, I daresay that being left in the woods for so long didn't help your prospects, and even if they had risked the transfer, you would still have faced a long recovery, albeit a more comfortable one. Why, I myself spent over a month in St. Mungo's with wizarding medicine at their disposal. I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that you have the heart of a lion and I will not lose my favourite Quiddich player. You must not let me down."

Professor McGonagall's mention of the fact that she doubted that even Madame Pomfrey could save him now didn't make him feel any better. After all, she had re-grown bones, de-petrified people with help from Professor Sprout's mandrake potion and had mended nearly every student at Hogwarts at one time or another. Harry hated Snape even more after Professor McGonagall had mentioned that the delay in treatment had contributed to his ineligibility for wizarding care, he felt hot wrath rise in his chest. Why was Dumbledore always defending Snape still?

As Harry thought over the conversation, it was the reference to the heart of a lion that Professor McGonagall had mentioned on top of what Tyler had said about him in the woods, that stood out especially in his mind. He knew that people used this as an expression all the time, but Tyler had mentioned it as though it were not merely a popular saying, but an actual resemblance in Harry of a lion. 'I knew I always belonged in Griffindor', he reassured himself, picturing the Griffindor house symbol, a Griffin, half bird, half lion. Harry still harboured the fear that the sorting hat had instilled in him, that he might do well in Slytherin with Snape and Malfoy. He drifted off to sleep thinking of the Griffindor flag flying in breeze during a Quiddich match, while the head of his house from Hogwarts watched over him.

Harry also dreamed he was in a hot climate, lying in the warm sun on a sandy ground. His senses were keen. He could smell the very air and the approaching rain. He could see and hear every creature stirring in his strange environment and he took off running just for the sheer joy of it. He was so fast on all fours. 'All fours!' he thought. He was having one those dreams where you can keep a dialogue with yourself while still dreaming. 'Wow, I must be dreaming. This is neat!'

Harry awoke just as Professor McGonagall's day shift was over. He wished she could have stayed. Nights were when Harry felt most scared and vulnerable, but he gave no indication that he wanted her to stay. He knew she needed her rest, having only just been released from hospital herself recently, after sustaining four stunning spells to the chest in a row. Harry also knew that she had spent a sleepless night as part of a search party for him during the great storms.

"Hello Harry, Professor Lupin said warmly, entering his room. Harry was glad it was Lupin. He was in no mood for more sleep just now and Lupin had been a great teacher and friend to him. Professor Lupin had resigned from his post as teacher of Defence against the dark Arts, when it had come to the attention of parents of students at Hogwarts that he was in fact a werewolf, something that would not be tolerated. But Harry had the greatest admiration for the man who had been friends with his father and his godfather when they had all been at school together. It had been Professor Lupin who had saved Harry's life many times over, by teaching him to produce a patronus to defend himself from the soul sucking Dementors. Harry felt that Lupin's differences didn't make him dangerous, just different.

Harry noticed that Lupin, who was usually very pale and shabbily dressed, just as Sirius had been, looked a lot healthier and better dressed than he had ever seen him. Feeling Harry taking him in with his eyes, he replied, "Professor Snape's potions have only been getting better and better lately. I feel like a new man. I still retreat every full moon as a precaution, but as the treatments become more successful, I may even be cured someday." Harry, who could see plainly, the hope and anticipation on his face, did not indicate his displeasure with the praise for the man he considered largely responsible for his current state.

Even Professor Lupin was expressing his apologies for not reaching Harry in time to save him. "You know everyone was searching for you while blasting those infernal funnel clouds. We were worried sick...why poor Molly..." He paused and looked at the floor. 'What!' thought Harry desperately. 'What about Mrs. Weasley?' He raised his eyebrows, indicating for Lupin to go on. He was getting quite used to commanding with his eyes.

"Well, Harry, Molly, Mrs. Weasley's-been through so much with her husband almost getting killed to that boggart showing her worst fears, namely her sons and you Harry, getting killed..." He paused as though thinking that the boggart hadn't been far off the mark...and than there's Percy's promotion to Assistant to the head of the Ministry's information office. Percy will be conducting interviews with people, muggle and wizard alike, to form an excuse as to the reason for the sudden change in the ministry's stance on whether Voldemort is back or not. No doubt, he'll be wanting a interview with you, Harry..."

Harry now remembered how it had stung him to his heart that Percy, in a letter to Ron, had advised Ron to refrain from keeping company with Harry as he was both a liar and probably insane as well. Ron had not taken the advice from his stuck up, ladder climbing brother, and Harry had been relieved. He vowed that no such interview would ever take place. Harry had stated his proof for all to hear and those that did not believe would do so at their own peril.

Mrs. Weasley had spent the whole previous summer trying to persuade, cajole and even beg Percy to return home and stop all his self promotion and gold seeking way of life. Mr. Weasley had in the meantime be demoted, no doubt thanks to Percy pointing out any tardiness or slight discrepancy on his father's part at the ministry for magic. Mr. Weasley, who had done a good job in the misuse of muggle artifacts office, had been demoted to Centaur Liaison office, which everyone know is a non entity, due to the fact that centaurs do not communicated with humans. It was the last stop before the door of employment with the ministry for magic shuts for the last time.

As distressing as all this was, it was exciting to be with his old mentor again. Professor Lupin had opened his eyes to so many possibilities. If he could talk, Harry felt sure he would have told Professor Lupin about his lion dreams. He knew he didn't have to be shy or ashamed to tell this man anything. He had seen Lupin at brief intervals last year, but never got much chance to tell him all of the things that had transpired over the last few years since he had left Hogwarts. He longed for the tea breaks in Professor Lupin's office when everyone but he was allowed to visit Hogsmeade. He remembered hearing all about Lupin's many adventures and learning about creatures he had never seen before.

Professor Lupin had reminded Harry of what having a real uncle would be like. Someone to rough around with, and tell stories, true or not, didn't matter most of the time. True to his nature, Lupin entertained Harry with stories of his adventures until he fell asleep at about ten-thirty. Harry awoke as Professor Lupin was leaving at seven in the morning on Sunday. It was the first time he had not awakened in the night in pain and confused as to his whereabouts. Lupin had put him at ease somehow for the whole night. Now, however, he hurt-badly. He clenched his fists.

His chest was on fire. He felt pressure so intense in his whole upper body that his back arched involuntarily. His hands which had felt so heavy, now flew to clutch his chest. He felt his lungs constricting. "Get someone, quickly!" croaked Professor McGonagall to Lupin and the mediwizards rushed in followed quickly by Stephanie. Stephanie suctioned Harry's breathing tube and Professor McGonagall, who could take no more, took out her wand and was just about to shout "enervate!" when the dose of adrenaline Harry had been given kicked in and he fell back into a prone position, hands still clutching his chest. Such relief fell upon him that he closed his eyes and blacked out.

It was night again before Harry came to.The room swam before him as he felt someone take his hands on either side. Apparently, Professor McGonagall had brought Ron and Hermione as a surprise for him, though he was only vaguely aware of their presence. Ron and Hermione were asleep on the plush chairs on either side of him. Professor Lupin stared at him, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and a little sadly. When he saw Harry was awake, he tried to smile. "You gave us another scare, Harry. These two wouldn't leave you, even with every order and threat from every mediwizard here to go home. I feared a duel at one point." he smiled weakly.

Hermione and Ron awoke to find Harry staring at them. "Harry, I swear I'll thrash you for that when you're well," Ron yawned and Harry noticed how stressed he looked.

"Oh, Harry, it's going to be okay tomorrow, it really will be. They do things like this all the time..." Hermione knew Harry wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about, but she knew he would soon learn.

'Things like what exactly?' Harry wanted to know, but couldn't ask. He had heard all kinds of talk about draining fluid and removing bone fragments, but now it came to it, he wasn't ready. They were going to operate tomorrow after all, he realized with a thrill of horror.

"We're staying right 'til it's all over. We'll be here when you go to sleep and we'll be here when you wake up." Hermione was trying to be reassuring. Ron was nodding to everything she said. Professor Lupin had nothing to offer, except the same reassurances and agreements with Hermione. It was Lupin who had taught Harry to make a patronus. It was Lupin who had given him the confidence to pursue his education to the fullest. Now even he could not help. There was not a patronus equivalent to ward off what Harry was facing.

The surgery was scheduled for eleven thirty the next morning. It was now three thirty a.m. The magical clock at the Weasley's household, which didn't tell time, but gave locations of family members instead, moved Harry's picture from 'hospital' to 'mortal peril' again. The hands had been dodging between the two all week. "Harry, you should rest, you need your strength." Ron told him.

Harry shot him a look that said, "dying doesn't take a whole lot of strength." Harry had known this was going to happen, but he hadn't prepared. He figured they moved up the surgery because of what happened with the pain in his chest earlier, but he still could not fathom why they didn't just heal him wizard fashion.

Professor McGonagall, who had not left after Harry's relapse entered the room with a cup of tea for everyone. She hadn't expected Harry to be awake. Before she looked at him, she told Ron, Hermione and Professor Lupin that security would be tight during the procedure. Nearly the whole order of the Phoenix would be involved in securing the building and surrounding area.

Stephanie, with connections to muggle doctors, friends from university, had been able to persuade some of them to perform the surgery. First after calling her "nuts" they were given a tour of St. Mungos, then they consented to having their memories of this after the surgery, obliviated. Dumbledore had instructed Snape to provide these doctors with simple potion ingredient lists to take with them when they left. Simple potions like Madame Pomfrey's "Pepper Up" potion would help the muggles finally cure the common cold and flu, and would serve as a goodwill gesture to the muggles for their help in this matter.

Everything seemed in it's place, except Harry. No one asked Harry what he wanted, not that he had a choice, and when everyone he knew came to "Visit" him , it seemed more like a goodbye at a funeral procession than a get well greeting.

Ron and Hermione didn't leave during all the visits. Harry was glad. If this was his last day, he wanted to be with them, his friends through thick and thin, this being the thinnest ever.

The visitor that caught him most off guard was Dudley–Alone. He had brought his new mini-colour television, battery operated with remote control and headset, and his new game system. Not waiting for Harry's friends to retaliate he simply said "Please" to Ron and Hermione who sat back down, but did not take their eyes off him.

"I know you're a wizard, but you grew up mug—muggle is it? He went on "and I know you like games... I caught you playing it when you thought I wasn't home. I never said anything, most of the time."

This bit of news startled Harry. He had been sneaking a go at the game system every time he could get his hands on it. "Anyway I know you'll pull through, I lived after having that tail removed", he smiled. "Anyway" he said again, "When you're feeling better, you might get bored, They're yours". He left again leaving everyone except Ron speechless.

"That Git is up to something"

But Hermione could sense that at the sentimental state Harry was in at this point, he needed to believe that this was a genuine gesture of support.

At five o'clock in the morning, someone came in to take a blood sample. Harry was painfully reminded of the blood Wormtail had taken from him a year previous when he had used it to return Voldemort to full power.

As soon as the mediwizard had left with the blood, Snape arrived, early, for his day shift of security. Headmaster Dumbledore has asked me to tell you he will be here shortly before your surgery. Harry wanted to ask him if he had smelled his blood and been drawn into the room like a vampire.

"Harry , Headmaster Dumbledore has consented to let me give this potion before your surgery. I've modified it so it can be used in this primitive contraption." Snape studied the intravenous from bag to needle with a look of sheer revulsion on his face. He prepared a syringe and made ready to inject him. "The closest muggle equivalent doesn't work as well as this. I've made variations of it for Madame Pomfrey on many occasions." He seized Harry's arm. Would no one stop him?

"Very kind Severus" said Lupin approvingly ."Your potions have improved greatly as of late. Extra courses in advanced brewing?

"No, I've just been... Travelling a lot... business for the Headmaster!"

"Well it worked wonders for me," came praise from Professor McGonnagall. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He also thought Ron and Hermione had picked a lousy time to become complacent .

Harry prepared himself for the jab, but Snape had put the potion into the intravenous, to drain slowly into his veins. Snape drew an ancient pocket watch from his cloak. "This should take full effect in about six hours time, half and hour before the procedure." Harry glared at him and Snape asked for a few minutes with his student. Harry wanted to punch Ron in the nose and never speak to Hermione again as they complied without hesitation.

"Mr. Potter, I am under the impression that you blame me for this-unfortunate situation. I assure you that my wishing for your expulsion and wishing you death are two very different things. You have no idea what I have sacrificed, so your insufferable insolence will be mastered by the time you return to my classroom." Snape didn't need to say "or else." Harry had spent many detentions experiencing first hand the potion master's "or else." Was this Snape's twisted way of offering Harry hope that he would live to return to Hogwarts, or was he really this sadistic? Harry was apprehensive that Snape's potion would kill him. He still felt Dumbledore was making a huge mistake trusting Snape. By injecting Harry with his potion, he could very well have just killed him right in front of everyone. "Than again," came Hermione's voice in his head. "If Snape had wanted to kill you, Harry, he would have done it by now."

"Good luck, Potter," Snape said, in the same manner as if he were being falsely cordial before a Quidditch match between Slytherin and Griffindor. He did not stay in Harry's room with Professors Lupin and McGonnagall and Ron and Hermione. He stood, arms folded across his chest outside Harry's door.

When Ron and Hermione came back in, Harry closed his eyes and would not open them. He was furious with them both. Harry had been threatened with death by Snape's potions or lack of antidote before in class. He had been threatened by Snape with veratiserum to make him tell the evil potions master things. They had all been empty threats, but nonetheless frightening. Harry felt that Hermione and Ron had stood aside and let him be attacked with that needle.

"Harry, we watched him make that potion he just gave you. He started working on it the day you were brought in here. He seemed really rattled, Harry. I think he just doesn't have any people skills." All Harry could think was, 'how thick are you Hermione?" Now Harry wished with a fresh wave of panic that Madame Pomfrey was here. He never thought he'd ever wish for such things in his life. The very thought that they would operate on him, muggle fashion, with no real confidence in his survival, was overwhelming. He wondered if Snape was enjoying his fear. After all, he could have just given up in the woods that night and been done with it. His resolve to make Snape pay for the way he had treated him all these years boiled to the surface, which in some ways did him good, because he wanted to live at least to see him suffer.

"Come on mate, talk to us. We might not have much time left." Ron pleaded.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, "We have a lifetime to..." Just than Mrs. Weaslys' voice floated in. Harry opened his eyes and felt a rush of fear mixed with comfort, just as he had when Hagrid had come to his bedside.

"Oh Harry dear," she sobbed

"Mom, you promised," Ron reminded her.

You're right of course,"she returned, dabbing her eyes "Just with all this Percy business and now this..." she continued sobbing taking Harry in. Mr. Weasley was not with her and no one said why.

"We're going to celebrate your release from here in Grand scale when you're well. I'll make all your favourites," She said composing herself for Harry's sake. "Do you think you could handle two more visitors, Harry?" Harry blinked yes and was glad when Fred and George burst in, because Mrs. Weasley's grief was more than he could take right now.

Fred and George were the first wizards who did not express revulsion at the muggle apparatus hooked up to their benefactor's body. George plopped down on Harry's bedside, when everyone else had been too afraid to lay a finger on him. "Well, this is inconvenient, isn't it Harry?" Fred simply stated. Harry liked the distraction of having them around, but soon Mrs. Weasley was scolding them. The twins had tried the stethoscopes, the blood pressure monitors and just about every other gadget that wasn't directly attached to Harry. "Harry, when you're done with these," George indicated, can I have them? They've given me a great idea!"

"Never you mind," Mrs Weasley retorted, but Harry was highly amused. Fred winked at him, joking, "Harry, we are in your will aren't we?" Harry would have laughed if he could as Mrs. Weasley tried to usher them out, but now he had something to think about. He did have a sizeable amount of wizard's gold and assets, including real estate now that Sirius was gone, and he had not made a will. He now realized how neglectful this had been since his life had been pretty much forfeit since he had been born. He was roused out of these deep thoughts as Fred peaked his head back around the corner . "But seriously Harry, buck up. We can't wait for you to see the shop. Right on the corner of Knockturn and Diagon Alley," he finished as a slightly evil grin spread across their faces.

"Old Zonko's going nuts!" George said triumphantly, nicking a bedpan and plunking himself into a wheelchair pushed by Fred.

At eight o'clock, the muggle doctors arrived. They looked thoroughly interested in their surroundings. Harry worried that their minds would wander during surgery with so much to take in here. Stephanie looked slightly awkward. She knew that even if it was not her idea to bring the muggle doctors here, she had played a part in it at Dumbledore's request and therefore felt guilty as well. Harry did not blame her. He knew where his anger was directed.

"Hello, Harry. I've heard all about you from our Stephanie here." The doctor began with small talk, but it was of little use. Harry could barely hear him over the thumping of his heart. He had thought he'd accepted this, but now he knew he hadn't. Harry wanted to ignore them, hoping they would just go away, but they continued as though he had welcomed them. "I'm doctor Green. This is doctor Hubert, our anesthesiologist and this is doctor Francine Larkin. She's a thoracic surgeon. That means a heart specialist," he felt he should explain. "We just want to check you over, son, so try to relax." Harry knew that the doctor's arrival signalled the beginning of what he felt sure was to be his end. If the surgery did not kill him, Voldemort would get him while he was under anaesthetic, and there would be nothing he could do about it. When Harry looked at Stephanie, she gave a small sad shrug and Harry looked toward the ceiling, anywhere but at the doctors.

"Okay Harry, now this will be uncomfortable but it's okay, I assure you. When I shut off your ventilator, I want you to try to draw a breath on your own as deeply as you can. Ready?"

"No!" Harry blinked furiously.

"Right then, easy does it," said Dr. Green as he pushed a button at Harry's throat. Harry started to choke and splutter immediately. He fought to inhale and succeeded , though the effort cost him all his strength. "Very good, Harry." He wrote in his clipboard after turning the ventilator back on. Turning to Stephanie and the other doctors, he said, "I don't think his lung has healed as much as it should have by now. We'll have a look while we're in there."


	7. Call Him Like You Know Him

A/N HI

I have tried to post this story twice on this site. It seems people get author alerts alright, but for some reason, the story does not come up by title or description under any search by pename or title and I don't know why, so readership will be low. Does anyone know why this would occur? I have no idea where the story is being found, because like I said, under search, it's not there, yet...here it is getting a few reviews. I had quite a few reviews when I had to try reposting again, which I unfortunately lost...and the problem remains, but for the few people able to find this story, I hope you still like it and if you have any ideas, please let me know how I can get this to appear on search. I may have to repost again, but I hope not because I hate losing my reviews. Thanks so much! Well here goes...

"Now What!" Harry thought desperately. The muggle doctors told him nothing but that he would be fine while they took his pulse and listened to his chest and went over him with a fine tooth comb. At the same time as telling him he would be fine, they were saying to each other. "Ideally he should be more stable, but we can't risk waiting. One more episode like last night's and our window of opportunity may close."

"Why do they talk like I'm not listening?" Harry wondered. He supposed that they did this kind of thing all the time, but they should realize that for Harry, this was his life they were talking about. It was his life that would be over if... They told Harry that they would check back in on him very soon and again, they assured him that he would be fine, though they left very deep in conversation, making plans for emergency responses that may come up and such. Stephanie looked at him again before leaving. "Harry, I know these people. They are the best at what they do. They will take care of you."

Hagrid arrived at ten o'clock. Harry heard a commotion in the hall. Hagrid had grabbed Snape, who was still standing, arms folded. Hagrid shook Snape by his robe collar bellowing loudly and angrily at him. Harry could hear by the slur in Hagrid's voice that his friend was very drunk. "If this boy dies, it'll be on yer head! Ye've been nothin' but mean to 'im since the day 'e arrived!"

Snape's cold reply to this accusation was predictable. "Maybe your coddling of our young Mr. Potter has made him soft. I treat him the way he can be expect to be treated for years to come. He is coming up to the biggest fight of his life, more life threatening by an amount you cannot possibly comprehend, believe me, I know."

"But you of all people could've been 'elpin 'im all these years." Hagrid said, choking Snape up closer to him.

"I have been helping the boy in the only way I know how. Do you think Hagrid, that the dark lord will invite Mr. Potter in for tea and cakes?" Snape spat, turning his head away from the strong smell of alcohol on Hagrid's breath. "Cruel to be kind, Hagrid, cruel to be kind," Snape finished, removing Hagrid's grasp from his robes and brushing them smooth again. Hagrid was so taken aback by this analogy that Snape had time to shout, "expelliarmus!" Hagrid's pink umbrella flew from the pockets of his large coat pocket into Snape's outstretched hand. "You have been cleared of all charges related to the opening of the chamber of secrets since three years ago and you have not yet mustered the courage to obtain a proper wand. This pink umbrella says something about you that no doubt you've heard behind your back on countless occasions. It's not flattering, Hagrid, something Lockhart would carry, I daresay. Do not come here to accuse me of failing the boy. You have yet to match my efforts in his safekeeping. I trust I don't have to refresh your memory. It would be a pity if you were to fall from grace in his eyes. Snape was clearly not afraid of Hagrid's threat. He tossed him back his umbrella. Hagrid knew that at least on some points, Snape had been right. Hagrid had put off obtaining a proper wand as well as taking advantage of his cleared name. It had been easier to be bumbling Hagrid, and not someone that Harry would count on, but deep down he knew that Harry had always counted on him.

Snape and Hagrid still stood toe to toe when Dumbledore entered the ward. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Dumbledore asked as he swept up the corridor calmly to stand between the two.

"No headmaster," Snape replied obediently, but somewhat strained. Hagrid just swayed, a combination of the drunkenness and the newly surfaced guilt coming out. He couldn't let Harry see him like this. "Hagrid was just leaving, Sir," Snape lied, giving Hagrid a way out.

"Good, good," Dumbledore smiled benignly. No one doubted for a minute that Dumbledore had known what had just transpired. "We are, I remind you here on the most important task ever faced by the Order, he said entering Harry's room. Harry looked right past him for Hagrid, though he knew he'd gone before even saying goodbye or hello for that matter.

Once again entering Harry's mind, Dumbledore said, "Harry, I know you are scared, but I have on many occasions praised your strengths," and Harry could hear him plainly though his mouth was not moving. "You are afraid of death, but somehow think that giving up would release you from your destiny. I will therefore remind you Harry that your life is not your own to take, not even by merely giving up. You must fight Harry, harder than you have ever fought in your life. Your parents did not die to save you for you to decide when your life will be over."

"I have no choice in this!" Harry thought, but he could hear his own voice in the room and found that speech was not necessary.

Harry who felt cut off and shunned by the headmaster the previous year, was now strongly reminded of the time when Dumbledore had spent all night by his bedside after he had duelled with Voldemort over the Philosopher's stone, suddenly felt his fondness for the old man return in full.

"Professor," Harry asked something that had been on his mind since his hospitalization . "What if I fight as hard as I can and I can't do it? I don't want to let anyone down, I don't want to die, but I don't know if I can do this." Harry felt like he was in a room with Dumbledore by himself, where there was no pain in his body and his breaths came as easy as normal.

"Harry, my friend Nicholas Flammel likens death to a journey, not a bad thing, merely another plain of reality . I tend to agree. You seem to be seeking permission. As I have said, your life is not yours to give up, but nor can you keep it when your time is up. I do not feel your time has expired. Professor Snape has given you the potion already no doubt?"

"Yes" Harry was blinking answers once more, the pain had returned and the buzzing of all the people in his room resumed.

"Good, Good, you should be feeling it's effects directly. Just succumb to it's effects Harry, it is what is best." Somehow Dumbledore knowing about and approving of the potion relieved Harry Greatly.

True to his word, Snape's potion took effect about forty five minutes before surgery. Harry felt stronger and more confident, but with the new strength, he also felt like running away. "Okay, we're going to have to ask you all to leave," Stephanie stepped in. Everyone left, giving variations of thumbs up and some planting kisses on his forehead.

"Do not endeavour to make me look bad, Mr. Potter." Snape was clearly referring to his potion and Harry was again reminded of his first lesson with Snape. "I can help you brew glory, bottle fame, even put a stopper in DEATH..."

To Harry's shame and embarrassment, he was left with only a blanket covering his body. His chest was naked. He was embarrassed when everyone came back in, especially Professor McGonagall , Mrs. Weasley and mostly Hermione, but of course this was silly, Mrs. Weasley had sons of her own, Professor McGonagall was old enough to be his grandmother and Hermione had always been a sister to him. The things one thinks about at a time like this boggles the mind, he thought, though he still felt exposed.

"Okay time to go Harry. One of you can go with him. We've converted a treatment room to an operating room." No one seemed to know what to do until Ron indicated his mother who was already holding Harry's hand to go with him and no one had any objection to this. Ron gripped Harry's hand a little more tightly then caution would have dictated, and said he'd be seeing him soon.

Hermione kissed Harry silently on the cheek, Ron looked at the floor, not knowing what to do. He had been Harry's best friend all these years and he didn't want to fail him now. Harry reached out and took Ron's hand, as he clearly had not known what to do either. Harry looked at him and released his hand making the O.K. sign with his thumb and forefinger.

The mediwizards came to wheel Harry down the hall. Snape's potion hadn't released him of all his fears, but he at least felt resigned to go through with it.

"Here we are Harry," said Mrs. Weasley as though she could read his mind. "I've knitted you a nice new blanket for your bed when you're done. She could tell he was cold.

"Why is it so cold in here?" she asked.

"It's to slow his metabolism down, so there is less bleeding." explained the doctor.

"Ble...Bleeding? Stammered Mrs Weasley. Harry squeezed her hand, comforting her. She had clearly not accepted this muggle procedure as much as she had let on.

"Okay we're ready Steph." Stephanie and Mrs. Weasley left the room glancing sympathetically one last time at Harry, who was now surrounded by people who were trying to save his life, but he couldn't help feeling that somehow their Hippocratic oath to do no harm was being violated by the fact that they knew there were less invasive magical procedures for all of this. He felt that putting him through this surgery was every bit as dangerous as the transfer to wizarding methods of healing would be. Apparently no one shared his opinion, though he heard his share of doubts for his survival either way .

"Were going to patch you up just fine, Harry!" It was Doctor Green. "You'll be back playing Quidditch ...Is it? In no time. I'd love to see a game, maybe you can arrange for that when you're on your feet again." The doctor's bedside manner made Harry feel somewhat more confident of his abilities as a surgeon. "I've done this loads of times Harry," Doctor Green assured him, though he didn't stipulate how many successes he'd had.

"Now Harry," came a voice behind a mask sitting above the table he layed upon. "We need you to relax and count backwards from ten." Harry began counting to himself, at least he wouldn't know anything about it if he died on the operating table, he'd be asleep. Ten... Nine...Eight... Sev...

Harry fell away from his body. He was resting, sprawled "all fours dangling on either side of a log. He licked his paw lazily ...Paw? ...Four Legs! ... Here, on this plain of reality, he was a winged lion again. He stalked around a jungle feeling like a king ... a King of the beasts. Harry's dream stopped as he had spotted an elk. Subconsciously Harry didn't think that even as a lion he could catch and eat this prey, which as a human he would consider peaceful and beautiful and not a good food source.

Everyone in the waiting room was either nervously pacing or pretending to flip through hideously outdated wizarding magazines. Hagrid, who had returned, drummed his large fingers on a side table until everyone glared him into silence. Snape sat, arms still folded as they had been in the hallway, apparently deep in thought.

Hermione and Ron who needed something to physically concentrate their apprehension on, went to Harry's room to hook up his television and game system. Ron proved quite useless in this endeavour as Hermione, who had been muggle born, showed him how it all worked. He was almost as fascinated as his father would have been. Professor McGonagall had led Mrs Weasley to the cafeteria for a cup of tea. She had returned from seeing Harry off into the operating room quite beside herself muttering something about Harry bleeding to Death. She knew it, the boggart had known it and on and on.

Suddenly Harry snapped back to his own body. He could now look down at himself. He felt disconnected and calm. He could feel nothing but cold. His chest was exposed. The doctors were using a camera inside his chest and using other instruments obviously trying to fix his damaged lung. The disconnected feeling left rather quickly when one of the doctors used a rib spreader to separate his ribs to get a better look inside his chest.

"Dr. Green, his blood pressure is dropping," came the voice at the head of the table, "We're losing a Pulse." Harry felt that the voice at the head of the table was entirely too calm about the situation. As he slipped away again from the disturbing sight of reality, he found himself in a place no better than that reality where he was losing his battle to stay alive.

Harry hallucinated that there were dementors leaning over the Doctors. He was freezing, his happy dreams of being a lion, swept away in a panic. The dementor at the head of the operating table retracted his cloak and leaned it's putrid head toward Harry's face, using the ventilator as a straw through which it would suck Harry's soul out. Harry could feel the ventilator working against him, rather than providing the life sustaining oxygen he couldn't take in for himself, as the dementor's oozing mouth made contact with the tube, filling Harry's lungs with ice.

"NO!" Harry screamed, as he smelled the rotting breath and felt the dementor's ice cold decaying hands freeze his chest as the other dementors held him down.

"No Pulse Doctor!" Harry felt a sharp jolt of electricity coursing through his chest, just as he had in the woods when the doctors had used a defibulator on him to re-start his heart. Now he looked down at himself. He knew he was dead. He started to look around expecting, hoping to see ... his parents, Sirius, Cedric, ... Somebody, but no one came.

"FIGHT HARRY!" came Dumbledore's voice from somewhere.

"Still No Pulse!" Wham! they hit him again. From wherever Harry thought he was, he saw the dementor stand back, waiting for another opportunity to satisfy their craving for his soul. They would be back.

Three hours into the surgery, everyone knew things were not going well. "He can't die, can he?" Ron looked pleadingly at Professor Dumbledore who seemed to be somewhere else at the moment.

Harry saw the dementor retract his hood again for another try, it's rotting hand clutching the ventilator. He tried in vain to cry out, "Expecto Patronum!" but his voice seized up. Harry remembered having dreams like this where something awful would be chasing you and your legs would be running as fast as they could, but you stood still, or else your legs didn't work at all.

"Call him like you know him, not as merely just a conjured charm," came Dumbledore's voice once again into his dreams, speaking of Harry's patronus, a stag, like his father's animagus form.

"D ...Dad? Expecto Patronum!" He shouted it now and a huge silver stag galloped out of nowhere, whereas before it had sprung from Harry's wand. The silver stag Harry had always fancied as his patronus was the likeness of his Father James Potter, who had been an anigmus, a Stag. The patronus shot down on the Dementors and they vanished and Harry felt another charge through his body.

"That's it, we've lost him, I knew he was just not stable enough for this..."

To occupy their worried minds, Ron and Hermione had gone back to Harry's room to find something they could do for him for when he would return from surgery. "There, that's done", Hermione said, satisfied with her work. Harry's gonna love it when he comes out, but just then Professor McGonagall came in. She had tears in her eyes.

"I'm afraid Harry isn't doing as well as we'd hoped. I just thought you had the right to know so you can ... prepare yourselves... to say goodbye."

The silver stag galloped back to Harry and put it's head on Harry's shoulder. It leant down on it's two front legs, indicating Harry should get on. Harry now knew what he'd been doing. He had been so far away from his body, he dreamed the silver stag patronus was galloping him back to it. The stag stopped next to Harry lying on the table, white as the sheet beneath him. The stag nudged and Harry knew what he had to do, but he didn't want to leave. He climbed off the stag's back and laid down into his body once more.

Beep, ... Beep, ... Beep, ... "We have a pulse. Blood pressure rising." The voice sounded positively triumphant. Harry felt pain return to his body. He wondered if this was normal. They backed off his anaesthesia to try to return his blood pressure to normal. Now they started their tedious procedure again, Harry fell away to dreams once more.

He had been riding the silver stag through a field of green. It was warm and the wind caught his hair. He had no need for glasses, everything was crystal clear. He was happy. The ride became more bumpy and he felt himself shrink. "Say giddy up, Daddy!" came a voice Harry knew instantly. He was a baby, riding on a man's back playing horsey . His Father! His Mother Lily was laughing, holding him on as he crawled around on a rug in a room that Harry could somehow vividly remember was home. "Giddy up daddy ... come on Harry say it."

"Da Da," cooed a baby's voice , Harry realized was his own. James and Lily were so happy. "Where's the camera James, hold him on , I'll get it. Say Cheese" ... she laughed.

A blinding flash hit Harry right in the eyes. He was startled, He was on his broom, It was a Quidditch match. He chased the golden snitch, which in the bright sunlight was blinding . The flash bulb had become the snitch. Malfoy was bearing down on it as if he knew he had to get it. In this game, the snitch was worth his very life, not just one hundred and fifty points for a win, and Malfoy knew it. He attacked Harry with every known foul in the book. Harry dodged bludgers, and curses from Malfoy's wand which was outstretched and aimed at him without Malfoy even trying to conceal it.

"And Harry Potter loses another fifteen minutes to Draco Malfoy" ... Lee Jordan was commentating . Clearly this game was for time, not points. There were no other players.

Harry turned to return a bludger to Malfoy's head. It connected. "Excellent 10 Minutes to Harry, leaving him a deficit of only five minutes, Harry's done it before and we're all rooting for him now," but the stands were empty. Draco shook it off, coming up from behind Harry and slashing his wand across Harry's back. Lee Jordan was Frantic. "FOUL! FOUL! Harry Potter loses Ninety Minutes! Foul!" Harry felt a warm trickle down his back...

"They figure about an hour and a half more," Stephanie came to tell the Weasley's and Hermione. Somehow Harry had heard this, "an hour and half ... 90 minutes!" Draco was trying to kill him by prolonging the surgery in this dream. It was only a dream, but it was working.

Harry returned to the pitch, weak and barely able to focus his eyes. He concentrated on the snitch. Lee's voice boomed out. "Come on Harry, you've always done it before!" Harry was exhausted, he forced his hate for Malfoy to take over. Malfoy's hand extended for the golden snitch, Harry recklessly leapt from his broom and knocking his hand out of reach with his own falling body, he reached and his fingers closed around the golden snitch. He prepared to die, hitting the ground from that great height, but instead he fell onto a soft warm place where he fell asleep immediately with Lee Jordan's exuberant voice hysterically calling, "And Harry Potter LIVES!"

Harry could hear voices. "The next forty eight hours will be critical. We must guard against infection and fluid build up."

"Our hospitals are sterilized by house elves," came the indignant reply from the head mediwizard.

"My apologies sir, but perhaps I should explain. Infection can be inside a person's body, not just from outside sources. Harry was pierced in the back by flying debris from the storm. We removed shards of glass, wood and metal," Dr. Green went on . Harry was so intent on his fight with Voldemort and with trying to save everyone else, he had barely noticed that the glass raining down on him from blown out windows, was actually tearing into his flesh and by the time he would have had chance to realize it, he had bigger problems to deal with, and these materials, not being metal hadn't shown up on the xrays.

"Muggle medicine," he grumbled. Harry heard the door close. Clearly the eight hour surgery was more than this mediwizard could handle. He was completely unglued by what he'd seen.

"Set him up in a Intensive Care Ward, notify me if anything changes. I need some coffee ... do they have coffee?" Dr. Green asked.

"This way", came Stephanie's voice. She had delivered news during the entire process.

"It's seven thirty. What's going on?" demanded Hermione, as Stephanie led an exhausted looking Dr. Green, coffee cup in hand, to the waiting room.

"Please one at a time." He held up his hand to fend off the onslaught of questions

"Is he alright?"

"Can we see him?"

"Will he walk again?"

"Harry is stable. We are cautiously optimistic. If he makes it though the next two days, his chances will be upgraded. You can see him ... two people at a time ... ten minutes. The pulse in both ankles is stronger now that we have removed the bone fragments and debris that were putting pressure on his spine and causing swelling," he assured them all at once. "That is a good sign!"

"And his Lungs?" came professor McGonagall.

"The puncture wound from his rib had to be sutured ... sewn up," he corrected as the wizards looked at him curiously. Everyone cringed and automatically put their hand to their ribs as though actually felling this.

Harry was groggy. It was already ten past midnight when the doctors led Ron and Hermione in. They hadn't slept or ate during all of this. "I thought they fixed him," Ron whispered, wondering why Harry still needed the ventilator and other equipment .

"It's not like our medicine, it takes longer," Hermione whispered back.

"He must really be in pain now," said Ron with pity in his voice.

"Professor Snape said the potion he gave Harry also had pain relief properties better than muggle morphine or Demerol. Harry should be fairly comfortable for a couple of more hours," she reassured Ron.

"Yeah, but he looks really, really bad doesn't he? Like he's already ..."

"Ron, stop he'll hear you!"

Harry wondered if he was dreaming again. Dumbledore came to him, not as a bedside visitor, but as a voice in his head. "I always said they would make great parents." he said in reference to Harry's dream "You always loved that game." If Harry had been more aware, he would have questioned Dumbledore further, but now with everyone having already come to his bedside, he slipped into a dreamless sleep. Ginny had whispered in his ear, "Just sleep, Harry, it's what's best for you now," and for some reason, Harry had listened to that small scared voice. Ginny had sat silently during the surgery, curled up on a soft chair deep in thought and prayer. Harry wondered why he hadn't seen her before the surgery.

On Tuesday Morning, rain reflected on the enchanted ceiling. It couldn't have been more appropriate. Harry was sleepy and he had thought that he would wake up feeling better, not worse. Now he really could feel his legs, and they were painful. He was almost glad for it. Feeling something, even pain at this point was better than no feeling at all.

Stephanie entered his room with Tyler. He would have given anything to tell Tyler about the lion dreams he'd been having since Tyler had tried to heal him in the woods. The fear that he would never get to question him was realized when Tyler revealed that he and Stephanie were to have their memories of this whole affair wiped clear as soon as the doctors declared him stable. He had no time in the woods. He just wanted to know exactly what Tyler had meant by "heart of a lion" in his reference to his being able to help Harry, even though he wasn't an animal.

Rather than to have his memory wiped clean, Harry wanted Tyler to come to Hogwarts and tell that pompous sorting hat that he was more Griffindor than anyone there, but even more than that, Tyler who was older than his years had been Harry's first friend from his muggle life. Sure he had Ron and Hermione, but somehow he had always wondered if it wasn't that he was Harry Potter, whether they would have hit it off, after all. Going back all those years, Harry remembered that his whole first conversation with Ron had been about the scar, and "he who must not be named." It had been kind of nice not to explain for once, the scar, and all the other details Harry had to go over every time he met someone new.

"Harry," Tyler suddenly brightened, "Your Professor Dumbledore asked Professor Snape to try some occu ..."

"Occlumency Tyler", his mother reminded him. Now Harry felt sure he was still dreaming.

"It was kind of those telepathy studies that people research at universities with volunteers. It was really neat. He must be a really cool teacher ..." Tyler positively beamed with enthusiasm. "I heard him tell your headmaster that he'd never seen anything like it. He asked me to show him what I'd seen in you ... how I helped you and he said something about your dad and an ..." he looked at his mother for the right word.

"Animagus," she said, clearly not understanding what the word meant.

"Mom went with me, I was a little afraid of your teacher ... but he is really nice, let me try out his wand ..."

"Wait a minute here, back the broom up!" Harry thought. This was not the information you just blurt out when no reply is possible. "Anigmus, Tyler leaving soon, Snape nice ..." Harry fell unconscious . He was not ready for this. He did not remember the rest of the day of his surgery.

"Another 24 hours Molly, Harry can do that standing on his head." It was Professor Lupin once again defending Harry's strengths, rather than pointing out his weaknesses, like some people.

"I know but they said his temperature is up. It could mean infection, a major setback." Harry could hear Mrs Weasley sobbing.

" If Harry did have a fever, he wasn't feeling it. He just felt so sleepy. "They've had to keep him heavily sedated Molly, they don't want him to use his strength, also there's the pain." Harry had been in and out of it for hours, but had been utterly unable to show them a sign that he was aware.

"He hasn't woke in hours." Harry could hear all of what Hermione had said, and he wanted so much to tell her that he was okay. Trouble was, he just couldn't open his eyes. He started to dream again, and this time, it was so much more difficult to come back. Now, after having wanted to tell her that he was okay, he wasn't so sure he was alright himself.

Harry's eyes snapped open wide and unblinking, as reality and dreams mixed in horror and confusion. Voldemort laughed maliciously and put the cruciatus curse on him. His body became rigid with pain. The dark lord had aimed his wand at Harry's throat. Mediwizards rushed in. He couldn't breath, and though a part of him knew that the dark lord wasn't actually here, he felt his chest constrict painfully. He saw a funnel cloud aimed at him, and his chest would not rise with breath.

"His lung has collapsed again. Page Doctor Green Stat." Harry looked down at his body, covered with sweat. It was almost like looking at someone else. He heard someone say. "Okay, we got it. We won't have to go back in, but we have to get his temperature down." Harry's body felt icy cold to him. He was shivering. In his delirium, he thought he was screaming as wet cold towels were laid on his entire body. Why were they torturing him?

"The fever's broken, Molly. Doctor Green feels he's stable." It was Professor McGonagall "I have sent Ron and Hermione to the visitor's dormitory. I daresay they sat on the floor outside his room for the last four hours. They've really been through a lot. Wouldn't have left at all if I hadn't threatened to turn them into flies after I heard Ron say, 'wish I could be a fly on Harry's' wall to find out what is going on. For all they're telling us, you'd think we were kids or something'..." Last I looked in on them, they were fast asleep, bless them. I think we were right to slip some of that sleeping potion into their tea, they were almost overwrought, having not slept properly since, well before the surgery. They won't be any good to him if they get sick too. Just something Ron said makes me think of how long I've been teaching at Hogwarts. 'You'd think we were kids or something,' and you know I do...think they're kids, but they're really young adults now." She gazed fondly at Harry, stoking his hair back from his brow. "It seems like only yesterday they walked into the great hall, so small, already a bond formed between two of them and Hermione to complete the trio. Almost like it was meant to be somehow." Professor McGonagall had tears in her eyes as she reminisced about old times.

"Minerva, you know you haven't rested through all this either. Perhaps a little rest in the dorms for you as well?' Mrs. Weasley suggested.

Perhaps you're right Molly. Somehow I feel the worst is over, but I think I'll sit by him for a few more hours. I just can't seem to leave somehow."

Ron and Hermione woke eight hours later, hardly remembering having been ordered away from Harry's doorway, as tired as they had been. They were bounding down the hallway, when they almost collided with someone. It was Professor McGonagall, finally on her way to get some rest for herself.

"Professor McGonagall, Harry...is he...?"

"Mr. Wesley, Miss Granger." She was startled by the near collision. She checked her watch to calculate how much sleep they'd had and satisfied with the eight hours, she assured them, "Harry is holding his own. You have permission to enter his room, quietly mind you." They took off running, Professor McGonagall smiling after them. She didn't mind that they had started running in the halls again. She just wished that Harry was running with them too, and that they were all safe at Hogwarts in better times. Looking around the rather impersonal dorms, she added a touch of extra comfort to them with a beautifully made up four poster bed.

Eight more hours had passed with no sign of consciousness from Harry. "They said forty-eight hours," Ron said anxiously.

"It's not an exact science, Ron, you know," Hermione replied, though she sounded nervous as well. People came, people went, checking the machines, checking Harry, and no one told them anything. They didn't know whether to take this as a good sign or a bad sign.

Raised voices could be heard in the hallway, and they feared that Hagrid had come to challenge Professor Snape again. Instead, it turned out to be a reporter from the Daily Profit, none other than Rita Skeeter herself. "This is a private ward. Mr. Potter is not giving interviews at this time," came Snape's icy greeting.

"Professor Snape, what is Harry Potter doing here at St. Mungos? Is it some kind of a psychiatric assessment?" Apparently, the muggle charms to make this section of St. Mungos appear like a muggle building from the outside, had not thrown off this more than nosy reporter. Given Snape's stony silence, Ritas' quick quill quotes ink flew across the page, no doubt making up a story as it went along, while no one said a word, until...

"What are you doing here?" Hermione demanded.

"Now, now miss Granger, surely you alone know that I'm here to get the truth. Our Harry watchers and hangers on, have really missed the daily little tid-bits of his comings and goings, and what with the condition of that Hagrid character, drinking himself into a stupor every night...Well we naturally figured the drinking and Harry's sudden disappearance after those unfortunate tornadoes, coincided somehow. He's not dead is he?" She was so excited at the prospect of a scoop on the death of Harry Potter that she could see the headlines already. Her quick quill quotes ink was splattering furiously all over everything, including Professor Snape, who looked livid.

Hermione was stunned when Snape's voice boomed so loudly that the quick quill quotes writing, came to an abrupt halt and clattered to the floor. Rita, looking equally as livid, stooped to retrieve her favourite writing instrument, just as Snape snapped it into small pieces under his shoe. He advanced on Rita Skeeter, who quickly backed into the wall, leaning so far away from him she looked like she was part of it. "I have not forgotten your indiscretions of years ago, Ms. Skeeter. You will cease and desist, or this time it may come to what you wrote all those years ago about me. Apparently, some people have shorter memories than others, I am not one of them." He was positively threatening now.

Hermione was furious with herself now. Rita Skeeter had been writing all along, despite Hermione's blanket threat that she would report Rita Skeeter for being an unregistered anigmus. She had been using the pen name, 'Morgana Mausoleum'. Rita Skeeter had turned herself in to throw herself on the mercy of the courts. Apparently, she had found just that mercy, in the few remaining shady characters still working for the Ministry of Magic. She had received community service as her sentence, and now Hermione knew what that 'service' was to be. Report Harry's every move.

A/N well, that's chapter seven, chapter eight will be up soon, though I may have to repost it all again. Thanks so much to everyone who is helping me. I will be more specific once I figure out what is going on with my posting.


	8. Confessions and Choices

"Professor Snape, come now," coaxed Rita Skeeter, trying to lean far enough past Snape to see what was beyond and down the corridor of St Mungos. We have seen our share of brushes with the wizarding laws. She produced an old copy of the Daily Profit and held it under his nose. Hermione couldn't see why Snape had just flinched. Everyone already knew and had largely accepted the fact that Snape had, had a shady past and that he had atoned and was now a respected teacher at Hogwarts. All in all, nothing to be proud of, but nothing to make you raise your wand and hiss, "You will leave now, and do not turn your filthy back on me. I am not above hawking." Hawking was a curse which caused the recipient to be swept up in the air by the back of the neck and shoulders and dropped or deposited, whichever the assailant wished. Many a witch or wizard were seriously wounded or even killed, having been too caught up in the fear of the fall to merely utter "Wingardium Leviosa!" It had sat before the justice council, who had almost made it an unforgivable curse, but was reduced to jail term offence. ' After all,' reasoned one defence wizard in court defending his client for hawking, "It was the deceased person's fault for not using a simple charm that first years know to save themselves. The panic itself had killed my client's adversary, not my client himself." Rita Skeeter left walking clumsily backward until Snape put his wand back into his cloak.

Hermione wouldn't have wanted to be Rita Skeeter for anything at that moment. If Snape had been looking at her that way, she felt sure she would have fainted or cried. Rita Skeeter had taken her leave. Hermione, who was now watching through a crack in the door, saw Snape do something she did not expect. He sat down and put his face in his hands. He looked suddenly very tired, and was that sadness in his eyes? Hermione had never seen Professor Snape look anything but cold, collected and in charge. Somehow, as was always the case with Hermione, she felt sorry for him, but at the same time, she made a mental note to visit the library as soon as they returned to Hogwarts in two and a half weeks, to scan micro copies of the old Daily Prophets to find out what Rita Skeeter had brandished at Professor Snape to make him so angry and uneasy.

"Hermione!" Ron nearly shouted as a mediwizard shot him a look that was unmistakably, 'shut up, you'll wake him.'They had been the recipients of looks like this in the past from Hogwarts librarian, Madame Pince. "You're mad," he continued in more hushed tones. "How can you feel sorry for him? He's not a house-elf! You're not gonna start knitting him hats are you?"

"Ron, I'm telling you, you don't know everything about him," she answered, letting the house elf quip go by.

"We know he didn't help Harry," Ron retorted.

"How can you say that? He made that metabolism reductor and the anti pain serum useful in muggle devices didn't he? Without that, the doctors said Harry would have died from blood loss during surgery."

"Yes Hermione, but if Professor Dumbledore hadn't arrived in those woods exactly when he did, our friend would have been going back to Hogwarts in a coffin, or at the very least minus his legs," Ron contested.

"Professor Snape is not a healer, Ron. He told everyone that. He did what he could. That boy Tyler said that Professor Snape did a really rare occlumency charm on Harry, where he transferred some of Harry's pain onto himself, until help could arrive. He said Harry was dying before he did that, but than he hung on after that." Ron had to admit that she had a good point, but he and Harry had so often been unfairly punished by Professor Snape, that he hated to admit that Hermione had a point.

Sneaking a peak out into the hallway, where Professor Snape still sat, though somewhat more composed, Hermione made up her mind. "I'm going to make him some tea." It seemed strange, even to Hermione, that Professor Snape drank tea at all. It didn't seem manly enough or indeed evil enough to suit his manner. He seemed more the type to drink steaming potions or other weird concoctions from extravagant goblets. Neither Ron nor Hermione could ever remember having seen Professor Snape take even one drink of alcohol. She approached him timidly. "Professor Snape Sir?"

"What is it now Miss Granger?" He asked her, just as if they were in his classroom and she, as usual, was putting up her hand to ask or answer questions too many times.

"It's a long shift, Sir, and well, I thought you might like some hot tea... I know you can't leave your post." She was clearly intimidated. She just put the tray down in front of him and hurried back into Harry's room without waiting for acceptance or refusal of the tea and biscuits.

Hermione first had to tell Ron all about the tea room, which being muggle born had made more of an impression on her than it would have on Ron. First of all, all profits made there were to go to St. Mungos Charitable fund for research on undiscovered counter curses. The sign above the coffee and tea machine read, 'just like muggles use, for your enjoyment!' They weren't far off. On her first attempt, she deposited her coin and pressed the button for tea, getting instead, a bowl of onion soup. On her second attempt, expecting Styrofoam or cardboard cups to come down the chute, a bone china mug glided slowly down and filled with tea, followed by small china containers each containing milk and sugar. Following this spectacular sight, a silver tray with a single serving of biscuits landed on top of the china mug, also acting as lid to keep the contents hot for the trip back to whatever ward you were going. Hermione was very amused.

Ron and Hermione peaked out a minute later to see a somewhat puzzled Professor Snape decide at last that he would take some tea. They were surprised when he indulged in two packets of sugar for his tea. They had felt that anyone that sour had never even tasted sugar. Snape ate all the biscuits slowly, deep in thought as Hermione closed the gap in the door.

"Hermione, he's awake!" Ron said ecstatically. Hermione began to cry. The first forty-eight hours had passed and had been followed by three more days of uncertainty. "Harry, you made it. I knew you would." Harry simply blinked, 'yes', and was asleep again. "Well, at least he knows we're here," Ron added, somewhat disappointed. The doctors, after examining Harry, predicted that he would wake for longer periods each time and reassured them that Harry had gained significant ground in the past two days. His heart was regular and even his lungs were clearing. They were healing remarkably. No one said anything about his legs, although they had spent the most time examining them and his feet than anywhere else.

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry so intensely over the next two hours, that they felt they knew every pore in his face. Every time he twitched or moved, they would lean closer and stare even harder, trying to detect even the slightest sign that he might soon awaken. His hand had just moved and they had stared at it for so long that they finally fell asleep, feeling like they'd waited for a volcano to erupt or something.

They woke an hour later when they heard a tapping sound. The attending mediwizard had stepped out for a few minutes to get some more intravenous fluid for Harry. They first looked around the room to see what it was, than at Harry, who was tapping his bedrail quietly, trying to get their attention. "That's more like it mate, we're sleeping on the job," Ron said in a mock apologetic tone, while smiling from ear to ear. They couldn't see Harry's mouth for the tubes, but they could tell from his eyes that he would have smiled if he could. He was still pale and strained, but his eyes though drowsy looked more this time like well—like Harry's eyes. Like he was here now, not stuck in two places like he'd seemed the last couple times he had opened his eyes. "Harry, does it hurt still?" Ron wanted to know.

Hermione gave Ron a look that said, 'Of course it does, dummy!" Harry blinked, 'yes,' and they didn't know what to say. They both had his hands in theirs, and this time, Harry was able to grip back. He was so glad they were there. He had been on his own most of his life, and now, as vulnerable as was, he realized that Ron and Hermione were not just his friends, they were his family. At this point, despite the pain, Harry could only focus on the positive. The things he had, not things he didn't. The Weaslys, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid and Dumbledore just to name a few. The obvious deficits were still in his mind as they always would be, but Harry resolved, 'I'm not going to die. I'm going to live, at least this time. Let the duel come when it comes, but live to fight another day.' While Harry contemplated his assets in his groggy confused state, he had felt himself smile inside despite the pain when he thought of Ginny in particular, but he had no idea why this was.

Harry was trying to tell them something or ask them something, which with only yes or no was hard to do. He mimicked holding something. Hermione, who was brilliant at charades, got it in one. "He wants a quill. Quick get one, and some parchment from my bag." She was giving orders to Ron in her excitement, who ordinarily would have been offended. They put the quill into Harry's right hand, realizing at once that this would never work, as it was strapped to a padded board because of the intravenous lines.

"Try your left mate. Your handwriting's so atrocious, how much worse could it be?" Ron suggested., once again being scolded by Hermione for putting Harry down, but Harry was amused. At least Ron wasn't acting strangely around him.

"OUCH!" Harry wrote first in primary school print, which was all he could manage in this position.

"I know Harry." Ron's tone had become sympathetic and a little sad.

'Time? Day?' Harry scrawled next.

"It's Wednesday Harry. Nine-thirty at night." Harry looked up his enchanted ceiling. It was a clear warm August night, with a lot of stars and a nearly half moon. In anticipation of Harry's next question, Hermione answered, "A week and a half, Harry." His eyes moved to the ceiling again, as if trying to reckon the time that had elapsed.

The mediwizard reappeared and called the doctor. Several people came in, including Stephanie, for which Harry was grateful. Doctor Green ran a fingernail over Harry's toes and he flinched. He was asked to wiggle his toes, which although very stiff, were compliant with Harry's efforts. The doctor listened to Harry's chest and tapped his chest in several areas, causing him great discomfort. "Chest is almost clear and pulse in both legs is strong." Doctor Green seemed relieved, like he really cared, not at all the monster Harry had made him out to be before the surgery. "It's going to be rough, but you're on your way lad, you're on your way. I'll look in you in a couple of hours. Rest!" he ordered Harry, looking at Ron and Hermione to make sure he complied.

Stephanie, who was feeling largely responsible for the outcome of the surgery, since she had picked the surgical team, was the most relieved. She re-issued the rest order, after kissing Harry on his forehead. Harry thought it was absolutely mad, that after all the anxious waiting to see if he'd ever wake again, they gave him a shot to put him back to sleep. The quill slipped from his hand, after he'd simply written, 'thanks," with a happy face after it. Ron and Hermione both agreed that this time, Harry looked truly asleep, not... They couldn't even say it aloud.

At midnight, Snape, who had been replaced by Tonks at the end of his shift, reapparated at St. Mungos. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. I am to see you to..." He broke off as they clued in. Grimauld Place, secret headquarters of the Order Of The Phoenix, and former homestead of Harry's late Godfather, Sirius Black.

Not wanting to leave Harry alone, but thrilled to even be called to Grimauld Place, where they might learn something of the investigation into Harry's ordeal, they were grateful when Fred and George apparated right outside Harry's room. Now Harry needed not just security, but friends when he awoke. Ron gave Harry's hand one more squeeze and Hermione kissed him gently.

They told Fred and George to tell Harry they'd be back first thing in the morning.

Tonks, who was sporting long flowing platinum hair today, reminded the twins of a Veela. She eyed their unusually large knapsacks with suspicion. "No funny business, you two," she warned, though as neither Fred nor George were listed as security risks, at least not directly anyhow, she didn't detain them further.

"Oh come on, Tonks," George called to her, sounding offended. "You know we wouldn't do anything shady in a hospital." He winked at her as they entered Harry's room.

"Don't touch anything," admonished the mediwizard, shaking her index finger at them disapprovingly. She had been present the last time the twins had visited, leaving with a wheelchair and a bed pan, for which, at least, she had to hand it to them, they paid for the next day, along with a sizeable donation to St. Mungos. They were going to leave the donation in Harry's name, but thought better of the security restrictions, and instead made it out in Neville Longbottom's name, whose parents were permanent residents of St . Mungos, courtesy of Bellatrix Lestrange, Deatheater.

Fred pulled a large thermos bottle and some biscuits from the knapsack. He and George began to sip noisily on hot chocolate, loudly savouring every sip. Fred did a simple wafting spell and the smell of the warm chocolate permeated the whole room, smelling wonderful. "Would you care for some...Lois isn't it?" Fred squinted, trying to make out the identification badge from across the room.

"No, I couldn't possibly. I'm on duty, it's not professional," she answered sniffing in a large waft of the delicious aroma.

"Oh come on Miss," George coaxed soothingly, trying to appeal to her with the compliment of being called 'miss' when she was well past this title. "You've been run off your feet with all this muggle madness," he added, pointing to the tubes and wires all over Harry's body. "This is above and beyond the call of healer, and besides, we won't say anything. We're hard workers as well. We know what it's like mid shift, no break in sight." Miss Lois checked her watch and seemed to struggle internally.

"Well, maybe just one small cup," she conceded. After only four sips, she fell asleep. Fred and George advanced on Harry, who had slept through the whole thing.

Hermione and Ron arrived at Grimauld Place with Professor Snape a short time later. "Ron, Hermione, Please come sit. The meeting's about to start, dears." came Mrs. Weasley' voice from the kitchen doorway. They had never been invited to sit in on a meeting before. On the contrary, they had always been expressly forbidden to even ask about the meetings before this unprecedented invitation. Nearly everyone was present, excepting those on guard duty at St. Mungos or elsewhere. They were especially surprised to see Professor Dumbledore, sitting at the head of the table, hands folded, looking thoughtfully back at them. The meeting began at once, with no time for hellos to members they hadn't seen in along time.

"What we have to discuss concerns you all," Dumbledore said, getting right to the point. "Therefore I will tell you what has already been decided. Hogwarts is as safe a place as anywhere else, probably more so. We have therefore decided that on September the first, the first term will begin as usual as it has for over one thousand years." The possibility that Hogwarts may remain closed due to Voldemort's return had not occurred to them with everything else going on this summer. Dumbledore had their attention now more than ever.

"There will be obvious changes everywhere. For example, some of our teachers have been sent to a training facility to brush up on their defensive charms and the like. Those who do not pass the required standard set forth by the new teaching aptitude scale, will not return to their teaching position on September the first." Now Ron was thoroughly excited. Imagine being able to tell Harry that old Snape had been fired or even Professor Trelawny... He tuned out for a minute, a look of sheer pleasure marking his pale face.

"Mr. Weasley, if you're quite finished daydreaming." Ron came back to his sense of reality with a thud at the sound of Professor Snape's low menacing voice hissing in his ear, as though he had read his mind. Clearly, Harry hadn't told Ron and Hermione about Professor Trelawny's prophecy.

"We will also be placing a number of our own order members in key positions at the school. Mr. Potter and indeed the whole student and staff bodies will be at risk in this dark time. A poll of parents suggests that they feel as comfortable with their children in the care of the school as they would at home, given Vodemort's general attack in parts of London in particular, and on that point, I am pleased and relieved to report no fatalities occurred during this attack." Dumbledore paused as if thinking, 'if Harry makes it.' "Our main security focus," he continued, meaning Harry, was compromised by the muggle security now in place out of necessity. On the night of the attack, some security was diverted to funnel cloud diffusion. Congratulations are in order to those fine witches and wizards for a job well done, and as you all here know, many thanks are in order for the fine muggle medical team, who valiantly braved these storms to come to the aid of Mr. Potter." Glasses were raised to the muggles in tribute, though they would never know of this meeting of course.

Ron and Hermione looked around. The Order Of The Phoenix had grown immensely. Some of the members were so old, they held hearing horns to their ears to catch Dumbledore's speech. Now it was Hermione's turn to wander in thought. Muggles had hearing aids. Why did these wizards not take advantage of the technology? Or, better yet she thought, use an amplifying charm? Ron thought their attendance was almost comical, wondering what they could possibly do to help in the fight against the dark lord, but he quickly changed his mind when he saw the determination in their wrinkled faces. Some of their wands looked older than the ancient forests themselves. Middle aged newcomers were few and far between. The newer young ones looked hardly older than Ron and Hermione, who thought they looked snobbish and elite.

"The teaching appointments are as follows," read Dumbledore, snapping them all back to the present. "Professor Lupin, We have discussed your return to Hogwarts in the position of teacher in the Defence Against The Dark Arts classes." Ron coughed loudly and stole a glimpse of Professor Snape, who merely nodded, apparently having accepted the fact that he would never fill his dream position of teacher of the Defence Against The Dark Arts classes ever. Than something that Ron and Hermione could never have predicted happened. "This brings us to our next order of business. As a companion study to Defence Against The Dark Arts, potions classes with Professor Snape will now include mandatary field trips to collect ingredients not generally available from Professor Sprout, who as I see on my list, returns to us as Head of Herbology and of course Hufflepuff House.

Arabella Figg, who has a history with Mr. Potter, will replace Professor Beechan, who unfortunately, was unable to meet the necessary teaching requirements as set out in the new standards. She will be joining us in the capacity of Muggle studies Professor. Professor Beechan has been offered additional training. It appears that all heads of houses will return with exemplary reports from our new teaching academy." Ron, who had expected sweeping changes was disappointed. It seemed Professor Dumbledore had already appointed top notch teachers.

"Alistair Moody will be joining us a guidance councillor, helping our fifth and sixth year students choose courses geared to their career choice and also for obvious security reasons, his services will prove invaluable. Dumbledore's eyes now moved sadly down the list. "Finally, position for teacher of Care Of Magical Creatures and gamekeeper at Hogwarts is as yet unfilled." Ron and Hermione started talking at once.

"Where's Hagrid? What's going on?" they demanded in unison.

"It's not fair to make him write exams, Professor Dumbledore! He was denied the opportunity to finish his education at Hogwarts through no fault of his own. He's ill equipped that way, but he'd die for Harry...please Professor." Hermione sounded like a defence attorney at a court trial.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore addressed Hermione calmly. "Hagrid is more than up to writing and partaking in skills demonstration exams." His testament to Hagrid's abilities only made them more apprehensive. A panic seized them that perhaps Hagrid had been injured or killed. "It's just that at this time, Hagrid has declined to take the tests. There are no exceptions. At this time, we are interviewing suitable candidates. I daresay, it will take two people to perform Hagrid's duties at the school," Dumbledore finished sadly. Ron and Hermione were dumbstruck. They had forgotten themselves and almost left to look for Hagrid without further addition to the subject of Hagrid's apparent resignation.

"Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry has always been founded on the principal of passing down not only an education, but quality ethics in our students. We have, in the past accepted purebloods and non purebloods alike, but this year, a situation has arisen that enables us to educate an as yet unspecified student. He is neither muggle, squibb or wizard. He is as yet unclassified. We have held meetings with the minister for magical education and, given our unusual circumstances, she has granted us permission to accept this student for a few probationary months." Now Dumbledore's voice became one of impatience. "We faced many who felt that their children would 'catch something' from this new student, however, they were the same misguided ones who felt that anyone who was not a pureblood, should be denied entry. I daresay, Hogwarts would cease to exist if such a policy were allowed to gain popularity. Therefore, a wizarding education will be provided to this student free of charge, in lieu of services to the school which will provided to the school, by the students mother, who will be a temporary assistant to Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape. Mrs. Stephanie Golden and her son Tyler will be joining us on September the first as staff and student respectively."

"Excuse me, Professor," Hermione had shot up her hand to ask, "I thought they were to have their memories altered."

"Yes, well as to that Miss Granger, our ministry has tried several memory removal charms right up to and including 'obliviate,' but apparently were unable to wipe Tyler's slate clean. Professor Snape agreed to test the child and deemed him capable of coping if not excelling at our school and since his mother's services to Mr. Potter have proved invaluable, it seems like a win, win situation." Professor Snape, who usually objected to anything even remotely resembling this highly unusual situation, looked unsurprised and even keen at the new prospect.

"And now to our pressing dilemma. What to do with our young Mr. Potter. He must be protected at all costs, especially until he is well again. The prophecy will take place no matter what interventions are undertaken on his behalf, but we must afford him all the recuperative time we can to become stronger. The more time he has before this ultimate battle for gaining strength and knowledge, the more we will be able to depend upon him for our very way of life. We here have sworn to die in his defence so that future generations will be saved from slavery and slaughter at the hands of Voldemort and his supporters. Ron and Hermione were awestruck by the fact that no one in the room so much as flinched at the dark lord's name.

Dumbledore's mention of the prophecy as if he knew exactly what it had been, puzzled Ron and Hermione. Surely, Harry would have told them if he knew the details of the prophecy if he had known. The truth was that Harry had known what the prophecy was. He had just not had the chance or even the heart to tell his two best friends something so seemingly far fetched and dramatic, because although Dumbledore himself had heard the prophecy from it's' original source, Ron and especially Hermione didn't hold much, if any faith in Professor Trelawny's predictions. After all, she hadn't even been able to save her own job last year, by merely making an accurate prediction for Professor Umbridge. Harry knew the prophecy between he and Voldemort, though made by Professor Trelawny, was only too true. He just could not bring himself to say it aloud to his friends. It would make it even more real and impending.

By the time the meeting came to an end, Ron and Hermione, who were now leaning on their elbows, made to return to St. Mungos. "Absolutely not," came Mrs. Weasley's voice. "I've made you your first home cooked meal in almost two weeks. You will eat and than off to bed with you.You need your rest too."

"But mom, we can't leave Harry all alone. I know it's the middle of the night, but his internal clock is all screwed up. He wakes up whenever he can. He's scared, mom."

"Not to worry dear, Fred and George have agreed to keep their shop closed for the first time since the grand opening, so they can sit with Harry tonight. He won't be alone. Harry's very fond of them...for some reason," she smiled. Now that it came to it, it would be nice to have a break from the noise and stress at St. Mungos. Each one of them had a small pang of guilt. Here they were, uninjured, healthy people, and they were utterly exhausted from their experiences of the last eleven days, and they at least could leave to rest. Harry on the other hand, couldn't just simply decide he'd had enough and leave.

Professor McGonagall arrived early Thursday morning to find Fred and George stuffing what looked suspiciously like a muggle tape recorder into their knapsack, not to mention countless expensively bound books on memory charms and what she felt looked like a self hypnosis book by Hugh Vildo Zat. The twins looked supremely confident upon their departure. Professor McGonagall warned them, that they had just until the end of the following week to register for classes at Hogwarts, given that they had technically dropped out of school the previous year due to the reign of Professor Umbridge. They had not technically received their N.E.W.T.S., nor had they or any other seventh year, been trained properly under her running of the school. Many of last year's seventh years were returning to receive proper training, although Dumbledore had offered equivalency examinations for them. Since Fred and George had not attended school until year's end, this offer had not been extended to them. Had it not been for the oppressive conditions under which Fred and George had left the school, they would have had to write readmission tests.

After their first night shift sitting with Harry, the twins still went to their shop as usual for another business day. Mrs. Weasley had stopped by to speak with them after fussing over Ron and Hermione. She had no idea how much gold her twin sons were taking in, and even if she did have any idea of how successful they were becoming, she still pleaded with them to stay in school, than she played the guilt card. "Your father and I have sacrificed all these years so we could send you to the best wizarding school in the world..." No, they'd heard that speech too many times with different variations. This line of strategy had stopped working when Fred and George had turned fourteen. Now she pulled out the big guns. "Well how do you think Ron and Hermione will be able to look after Harry all by themselves?" Now Fred and George looked at one another, knowing they were doomed, their guilt realized. "You're Harry's Quidditch teammates. Who better to provide security during practices and matches? And what with Ginny so upset about not being old enough to take the same pledge Ron and Hermione took, there's no telling what lengths she'll go to be involved in protecting Harry. She's always been very bold when it comes to defending him. I've tried to convince her that Harry doesn't expect to paid back for saving her from the chamber of secrets, but I'm afraid...and don't forget, your only sister will likely be on the Quidditch team this year as well.

"Well, there's only one thing wrong with that theory, mom. Neither we or Harry are on the Quidditch team anymore. We'd have to try out again, and I wouldn't be mentioning Quidditch to Harry just now, it's bound to be a sore spot. He may never be able to play again for all we know." George said, only now just contemplating this. "Quidditch is a very physical sport, and Harry may never be the same after all this, and as for Ginny, I don't think there would be anything we could say or do to deter her from trying just as hard as we do to protect Harry."

"You know what I mean. Harry's had a hand in your success...Yes, yes I know all about it," she confessed. Ron had had to finally tell Mrs. Weasley about Harry giving the twins his tri wizard winnings. He hadn't wanted to tell, not wanting Harry to be blamed for Fred and George's having left school, but when Mr and Mrs Weasley became alarmed that the money they had used to launch their joke shop had been ill gotten gain, Ron hadn't had a choice, besides, it got him out of having to explain himself out of something he would have gotten trouble for, by distracting his parents to Fred and George's exploits.

"We do owe it all to you, Harry," said Fred, holding up his glass in the direction of St. Mungos. "But who will run the shop?"

"Well, you're already entrepreneurs, now maybe you can be credited with creating jobs," Mrs. Weasley suggested, sounding immensely proud speaking of their mysterious endeavours of recent times. Mrs. Weasley now looked around the joke shop for the first time. She had left Grimauld Place only after making sure that Ron and Hermione had gone to sleep. Although the twins had spent the night with Harry, they were very devoted to their business and still reported bright and early to open.

Fred and George hadn't realized just how good this praise would make them feel. They hung a 'help wanted' sign in their window as they put out their 'open' sign. Now that Mrs Weasley thought about it from the hurdle of success having been jumped, she suddenly realized that Fred and George had always thrown themselves into something they'd wanted one hundred percent. Unfortunately, most of it had been being up to no good, but now, here they were with one of the most successful business ventures to hit Diagon Alley in over a hundred years.

"It's funny how things change," Mrs Weasley mused over a hot cup of tea that Fred had just handed her. "Oh boys...I'm so sorry!" She dabbed her eyes. "I've made a point of riding you about your number of O.W.L.S , your untidy rooms, your inventions...and here you are. I could have ruined all of this." Mrs Weasley just couldn't take the pressure anymore. She was at the breaking point.

Fred and George, natural born comics, had lumps in their throats. They were speechless. Mrs Weasley continued, "I've been comparing you to Percy. Percy's a prefect, Percy's head boy, Why can't you be more like Percy? I just didn't want you to be as ...budgeted as we were." She went on, looking fondly at them. "But you two never cared about those things. Never complained about the shortening robes as you grew taller before we could afford to replace them..." She saw her twins in a whole new light now. Sure, she had always loved them equally, but it's sometimes hard to recognize a different path as a good one. After all, some of the most brilliant wizards of our time had been denied a full education, but Mrs Weasley was quick to point out, that given a chance, these people would have opted for a superior education at Hogwarts. Now she sounded like a recruitment magazine for famous wizarding schools.

Now for the first time since they had been small children, Fred and George fully appreciated how much they had been loved, even though admittedly they had been a pain since before they could even walk, times two. Fred cleared his throat, and they both hugged her tightly. "Percy'll come around, mom. He's just gotten a taste of ladder climbing fever."

"I praised him too much. I didn't keep him grounded. I pushed him into lofty goals. I..."

"Stop it, mom. It's not your fault, or dad's. It's Percys' fault. He broke bread with Harry and he knows Harry and he still went along for self promotion, even when the Minister Of Magic was saying awful things about Harry...about dad..." George stammered, "That Percy knows are not true!"

"I swear, if anything happens to dad because of Percy's hand in his demotion to Centaur Liaison, there will be hell to pay!" Fred's eyes flashed angrily.

"When I heard from your father last, over a week ago," she remembered nervously, "he blamed only Cornelius Fudge. He didn't hold Percy completely innocent for his actions, but he is our son..." She looked at them for support on at least this point.

"And he's our brother and blood is thicker than water, but mom, we consider Harry blood too. Our brother, Ron's brother, and if it comes to a choice.." They both seemed to share the same sentiment.

"I just want to see him come home, to see them both come home. To have all ten of us around the table like old times. By saying 'ten,' they knew that their mother had considered Harry a member of the family from the time when Ron had first brought him home from the Dursley's four years ago. Harry's picture had been added to the family clock and had hovered between 'hospital' and 'mortal peril' for nearly two weeks, for this clock told not the time, but the location of each Weasley on any given day. Percy's clock hand stood at 'work' for almost six months straight and Mr Weasley's simply read, 'travelling.' Mrs Weasley, who had been living between the burrow and Grimauld Place the past summer, wondered if the clock would place all of them in the 'home' position ever again.

"Professor Dumbledore told us years ago, that if we stand united we have a better chance at beating Voldemort. He told us his main strength is through 'conquer and divide' strategy. Percy's smarter than that. He'll figure it out, or we'll just have to beat the lust for power out of him," Fred promised.

Mrs Weasley smiled at them. "You really think he'll come home than?"

"Yeah, I do," George said quietly. Secretly, he wished he could show Percy just how much turmoil he'd caused and punish him straight away, than accept him back into the fold. Fred and George, who had been planning to rent themselves a fancy bachelor flat, now resigned themselves to the return to the schools dorms, less than glamorous reward for all their hard work. They had been picturing their own rooms, automatic snack boxes, maybe even a maid.

"Oh well, cheer up mate, look at the bright side. At least we won't get spoiled, the downfall of many successful business men. The constant aggravation of school will keep our creative juices flowing." Now they were giving themselves speeches. "Besides, there's always next year. It'll give us more time for market research...and the economy always booms after a war..." Fred stopped. "If the outcome is right. Mom's right, George. We have to help Harry."

"You really are good boys," Mrs Weasley said proudly. "Your shop has everything it needs for success." She looked about to tear up again, so finishing her tea, she informed them that she was going back to Grimauld Place to prepare a proper breakfast for Ron and Hermione and than take them back to St. Mungos. They were to be escorted by a qualified Witch or Wizard for their security as well as Harry's. Everyone had been informed that Harry wouldn't be able to receive visitors until noon this day, as he would be undergoing tests and bandage changes. Hermione, who had had her share of cuts and bruises when she was younger, all healed by muggle means of course, cringed at the thought of poor Harry all alone, hurting and scared.

"I want to be hanging on the door when Harry is allowed visitors, Ron. We have to find Hagrid quickly." When Mrs Weasley had been satisfied that Ron and Hermione had eaten a hearty breakfast, she reluctantly gave them permission to go to Diagon Alley in search of Hagrid. They left so quickly, that Mrs Weasley wondered even more if ever they would just sit together, enjoying the simple pleasures of life, like a shared meal.

Ron and Hermione arrived in Diagon Alley and felt it a pretty safe bet that they would find Hagrid in the pub called 'The Leaky Cauldron,' where sure enough, there he was, empty mead tankard in his large hand, snoring loudly, face down on the table.

"Hagrid?...HAGRID!" Ron called him, with a mixture of pity and disgust at their friend's more ragged than usual appearance.

"Ron,Hermione, how's Harry?" he slurred stupidly.

"What do you care, Hagrid? You haven't come to see him in days. Harry could be dead and buried for all you'd know," Hermione scolded coldly.

"Hermione!" Ron sounded half angry, half impressed. Clearly Hermione was preparing to use the muggle version of 'good cop, bad cop.'

"What Ron? It's true! I just wanted to let Hagrid know, that we knew he'd cop out, that's all. Always professing to care for Harry, but not enough apparently Hagrid, to stay with him through the worst time he's faced in his life. As long as Hagrid could just bumble along, pretending to be a slow, lowly gamekeeper; as long as no one expects anything from you when push comes to shoves, right Hagrid? Harry stood by you Hagrid, when nobody else believed in you. He had you acquitted of a crime that you didn't commit, but instead of repaying loyalty with loyalty, you fell into, poor Hagrid, no education, no money."

"I've never complained, no such thing!" Hagrid defended himself from the most unlikely attack he would have thought possible, not to mention the most unlikely attacker. Ron, who had stood with his mouth wide open in surprise at Hermione's brutal tactics, finally cottoned on.

"Yeah, it's too bad security's going to be so lax at Hogwarts this year. Of course, Hagrid wouldn't be able to provide any support with that pink umbrella of his anyway." Hagrid now strained to focus more attention on them despite his drunken stupor. He hadn't realized in all these years how many people knew that his umbrella contained the broken halves of his wand that had been snapped in two upon his expulsion from Hogwarts in his third year.

"I can't 'elp 'im 'ermione...You jus' don' understan'"

"What's to understand, Hagrid? That Harry's all alone? He's lost his parents, his godfather, now he could be losing his life.."

"Harry's...he's...dyin'?" Hagrid seemed suddenly sober. The news didn't surprise him much. "I knew it...I knew it..."

"You have to go to him, Hagrid," Hermione coaxed. She knew that she had laid it on a bit thick, but she had told the truth. Until Harry could breath on his own, the doctors said it could still go either way, even with the critical two days after surgery being hurtled already. Harry, of course, had not been informed of this.

Hagrid gathered his pink umbrella and unseasonably large warm coat and they left the Leakey Cauldron for St. Mungos. Hagrid had alligator tears falling gently down his cheeks pooling in his beard as he fought bellowing out loud, which was his usual release of profound grief. He just stared ahead as they climbed the stairs to Harry's ward.

Ron and Hermione, who had been embellishing the details of Harry's condition, now wished they hadn't. They felt they had been somewhat bad luck for Harry. Harry had had to be heavily sedated for a test procedure in which the doctors looked at his lungs through a camera placed in his trachea. His lungs were simply not strong enough yet to work on their own and Doctor Green informed them that it would be one more week before they could attempt to remove the ventilator. They now had their worst fears confirmed by Doctor Green. Harry's lungs hadn't improved as much as they'd hoped, but they knew Harry was a fighter. They wanted to rush in to comfort Harry, but they stuck to their plan. Let Hagrid, who had not heard the doctor, having left to make himself presentable, think that Harry was on his death bed, and hope beyond hope that it wasn't true.

"Hagrid, you look awful!" Professor McGonagall appraised the former Hogwarts teacher. Ron and Hermione were surprised that the bad news about Harry's lungs had not caused Professor McGonagall any more concern than that which she already carried. They wondered about this, but did not speak of it, keeping their game faces on. They ushered Hagrid into Harry's room all by himself, and they could see Harry was still sedated.

What Happened next, made them realize how much they hadn't known about Hagrid without actually considering it on a personal level. The attending mediwizard had stepped out to obtain supplies for Harry. Since Hagrid had believed that Harry was dying, he felt he could do him no harm by gently raising Harry's head with one enormous hand, while being careful not to interfere with the ventilator. His other massive hand stoked Harry's cheek and forehead, as he, like everyone else who'd visited, except the Dursleys of course, brushed Harry's long dark hair from his eyes.

"I'm sorry I've not been 'ere all along, Harry. It's jus' ...when I picked you up for the first time when you was only a babe, I loved yeh from that moment on. I only had yeh fer a few hours to meself, but you know how I get attached to things...lose me head completely after a few hours. I fed yeh, an burped yeh and even changed yeh and yeh fell asleep in me arms...like yeh trusted me to protect yeh ...and I had to let you go to them Dursleys. I'd' hev kept yeh me self if I'd been allowed." Ron and Hermione listened to the account of the night Harry's parents had been killed from a whole new perspective.

"I followed yer life through listenin' to Dumbledore...great man still...an gettin' tidbits here n' there. When I heard you was comin' to Hogwarts, I went straight to Professor Dumbledore and I says, Professor Dumbledore sir, I'd like permission to fetch 'im meself. I was only bold enough to ask, because I couldn't wait to see you again..." Hagrid shook his shaggy head as though feeling regretful.

"Later I felt guilty abou' bein the one t'eve brought you back to us, because at the same time, "I was bringin' yeh back to Voldemort." There, he'd said it, for the first time. The dark lord's name. I knew ye'd have to face it someday Harry. Only I wish I hadn't been the one to bring yeh back into a life of turmoil. Dumbledore said I was blamin' meself for no reason. Someone would have had to come bring you back anyway, and either way, Voldemort would'a been after yeh." Now Hagrid was rambling. He always found a way to make everything his fault. He'd had a guilty conscience ever since he was falsely accused of setting a monster loose at Hogwarts in his youth, and only Dumbledore had stood by him until Harry, Ron and Hermione came along.

"Look, I shed've been here to see you through this, but Harry yer like a son to me and I lost me mom when I was only a baby and me dad died when I was just a wee one." Hagrid referring to himself as a 'wee one,' would have been highly amusing if he hadn't been pouring out his heart to his supposedly dying much loved one. "Ye see Harry, me and you ain't so different. We both lost everyone we cared about. I just couldn't face yeh dyin' on me! An after you lost Sirius, I didn't think I could watch your heart bleed anymore. I'm a coward Harry, a ruddy coward."

Ron and Hermione and indeed Professor McGonagall had taken this all in. It had never occurred to them that Hagrid, who had demonstrated immediate reckless affection for most living creatures, had usually lost the object of his affection one way or the other. There had been his parents and Baby Norbert, his beloved pet dragon, which had been sent to an dragon centre in Romania and Buckbeak his hippogriff that had been saved just barely from the executioners axe for his attack on Draco Malfoy. Buckbeak had been set free to aid Sirius Black from execution at the hands of the Dementors from Azkaban...and now Harry. Hermione now felt supremely guilty and ashamed. Just because Hagrid was half giant and strong and large, didn't mean that he didn't carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. For inside Hagrid, beat the most gentle heart Hogwarts had seen in a long time. He found room in his tiny cabin for wounded animals and nursed them back to health. He was always there when they needed him, and now to see this profound display of sadness, Ron and Hermione wished they had taken the time to walk a mile in their friend Hagrid's very large and very delicate shoes, before they pounced on him like a pack of jackals.

"Hagrid, we're so sorry!" Hermione sobbed as she opened Harry's door wider to reveal that they had witnessed this emotional confession to Harry.

"We knew all of this Hagrid. Trouble is we just didn't get it." Ron fell silent, looking at the floor. Hermione helped Hagrid place Harry's head gently back onto the pillows, while Ron watched for signs of trouble. Harry didn't seem to suffer further damage from Hagrid's overzealous actions. "Hagrid, you're not in alone in being afraid of losing Harry. We've all been worried, but we haven't lost anyone before like you and Harry have."

Hermione piped in and added, "There's a muggle saying that I've been partial to ever since I met Harry. "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' That's the way it is for anyone who cares for Harry as much as we do." She had been so poetic, that they had all dissolved into a minute of grief, until Ron snapped around when he looked at Harry, who was looking right back at him. He wondered how much of this Harry had heard.


	9. Oversights

A/N Thanks for all the reviews! Specific thanks are at the bottom of the chapter. You guys rock!

Fortunately, Harry had heard nothing of substance from Hagrid's tearful conversation with him. He had awakened upon hearing Hagrid blow his nose loudly on a large tissue, trying to conceal his remorse from Ron and Hermione. Even after they had handed him his quill, Harry didn't know what to write. They all looked so sad, so he just wrote, "hi?" to prompt someone to say something, anything. The silence was deafening. Harry broke it by scrawling, "Who died?" This snapped them all to attention.

"Harry, I do love yeh!" Hagrid said so emphatically that Harry had to wonder if he was going to die after all. Before anyone could stop him, Hagrid had lifted an extremely startled Harry's whole head board up off the floor and was holding it like a cradle. Harry, who was not injured by this, looked at Hermione and Ron wide eyed, as a mediwitch came back into the room.

"What is the meaning of this!" the mediwizard demanded, highly agitated. "Unhand him at once!" she had her wand trained on Hagrid. Professor McGonagall managed to calm the mediwitch, who nonetheless kicked Hermione, Ron and Hagrid out and placed an urgent call to Doctor Green, who came rushing in expecting a catastrophe of some sort. After a complete checkup, Doctor Green was able to convince the frazzled mediwitch that Harry had suffered no further harm at Hagrid's hands.

Now that Harry was awake, Hagrid felt he couldn't face him. He was ashamed of himself for even having thought for a moment of giving up trying to protect Harry, especially after having told Harry to never give up and face things as they came. Hagrid resolved that he would be the one to see Harry from cradle to grave if necessary. "Tell 'im...tell 'im I'm gonna do something I shed've done a long time ago. When Harry sees me next, it'll be as it should be. I know now that Sirius is gone, Harry'll look to me more than before, and I won' let 'im down." That said, Hagrid stalked heavily down the hallway and out of sight. Hagrid had no idea that Professor McGonagall had witnessed everything and had wondered how Hermione and Ron had been able to make such a change in Hagrid that even Dumbledore had failed to do.

Ron and Hermione felt bad when they re-entered Harry's room and he looked past them to see Hagrid, who was no longer there. "Hagrid...Where?" wrote Harry, clearly confused by all that had taken place. Hagrid had pleaded with Ron and Hermione not to tell Harry about his lapse in courage, which of course it had never been, or about his resignation from Hogwarts. Harry knew they were lying when their simplistic answer of Hagrid's suddenly having been called away was given. For one thing, Hermione always bit her lower lip when she was lying and besides, Hagrid had never been called away suddenly on business, especially not without saying goodbye.

Harry had shared so much trust with his two best friends, he decided to let them away with their apparent deception. Everyone was being patronizing and talking to Harry like he was made of thin glass, and he had to admit to himself, sometimes he felt like he was. Ron fell back into his usual tap dance number of talking about Quidditch, namely his favourite team, the Chudley Cannons. Anything to avoid talking about what had just taken place.

"Lame," Harry wrote in response to the Chudley Cannons, who usually choked at a critical point in all of their games for years out of count.

"If you weren't already in that bed, mate..." Ron threatened jokingly shaking his fist at Harry.

"Oh Harry, it's ever so exiting." Hermione was trying her best to make Harry forget Hagrid's mysterious sudden departure from St. Mungos. "Our Hogwarts letters said we're to have a family week, complete with overnight accommodations for the guests, for the entire last week of October to November the second. Muggle parents are even included. She sounded completely enthusiastic and proud.

"Yeah, we'll be having Quidditch demonstrations for the muggle parents and a party for Halloween and everything." Even Ron couldn't hide his anticipation. Something to make Hogwarts feel safe, like a home away from home. "Professor Dumbledore says given the anticipated problems, people are really re-evaluating their priorities, and family is really important now."

"Hogwarts Letter! Mine? where!" Harry had scratched this so impatiently that it was almost illegible.

"Oh! Now out of the fire, and into the frying pan, Hermione," groaned Ron into Hermione's ear. Neither of them had considered that Harry hadn't received his Hogwarts letter yet.

Hedwig had always delivered Harry's Hogwarts letters. Harry suddenly became completely panic stricken. He had been in such rough shape he hadn't even had the wits to think about Hedwig. He could remember throwing her out of the upstairs window at the Dursleys, but in his haste to get out of Privet Drive, he had given her no instructions and the storms had been really raging...

"HEDWIG!" he wrote in capital letters. Ron and Hermione looked at each other. They hadn't considered Hedwig either, out of concern for Harry. No one had heard from Hedwig in over two weeks, and Harry could tell by the look on their faces that they had no idea where his owl was.

Suddenly, Harry didn't care about his Hogwarts letter, which had always arrived right along the same time as his friends had. "Get it off me! I need to look for Hedwig!" He dropped his quill and reached for the ventilator with the clear intent to remove it himself if he had to. The mediwizard was just outside the door and hadn't notice the commotion yet.

Ron grabbed Harry's hands forcefully. Harry had a lot of strength in his panic. "Listen to me Harry!" Ron felt a horrible jolt in the pit of his stomach, having to restrain Harry this way as Harry's face went red in the struggle and Ron could feel his own eyes filling with tears.

"Harry, it doesn't mean anything. Hedwig's been gone this long before hasn't she?"

"NO!" blinked Harry furiously. This wasn't entirely true, but Harry had pretty much been able to predict her return. His strength diminished very quickly in the struggle, but Ron still gripped his hands in fear that he would seriously harm himself. Harry's eyes flashed coldly at Ron, who looked away, but could still feel them boring into him. Ron finally swallowed the lump in his throat. They had done nothing but lie to Harry ever since this all began, and now, they hadn't even taken care of Harry's cherished pet and companion. They both felt terrible. Harry felt worse.

Harry turned his head to the side and stared out the window as if expecting Hedwig to suddenly fly in. Ron, with a voice more like a parent, was harsh with Harry, though it hurt him to his heart. "Can I let you go now, or are you going to try and kill yourself again?" he demanded roughly. He felt Harry's shoulders relax in his grip.

"Yes," Harry blinked angrily

"Yes what Harry? Yes, let you go, or yes you're going to do that again?" Now it was apparent how tired Ron was, how stressed out they'd all become. This was the breaking point. Ron loosened his grip and Harry pulled his arm away, rubbing his wrist with his taped up right arm, causing blood to flow back up into the intravenous tubing.

"We're so sorry Harry," Hermione whimpered. "We'll find her, promise! We were just so worried about you, we never thought."

In reality, it was Harry who felt guilty. He should be out there looking for her. Now he felt even worse, having transferred his own guilt onto the people who cared about him more than anyone else in the world. Irrational in his compromised state, he felt he had blown the friendship for good.

Ron had done serious Quidditch training that had taken less strength out of him. You don't just attack your best friend, but he just didn't know what else to do. They just sat in silence. Ron seemed in shock.

"Look Harry, I promise I'll find her." Ron tried to soothe him.

"Me too," Hermione promised again. Harry requested his quill.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" his handwriting was more messy than ever. Clearly his wrist hurt where Ron had gripped them so tightly. Harry looked at them for the forgiveness he needed, fearing that in his haste to escape the Dursleys, he had thrown his beloved owl out into the storms and to her death.

"Don't Harry. It's not your fault, only you've go to accept that this is the way it is right now," Ron told him, pointing to the medical equipment. You have to wait. You'll be out of here in no time," he promised. Harry could see no end in sight.

"Please look for Hedwig...and don't keep things from me." Harry wrote, pinning their lying on them with this statement. They promised they would tell him the truth, no matter what the outcome. Harry knew they were being truthful, they wouldn't keep secrets from him anymore. But in bargain for this, he had to promise to stay put, without trying anything to get up again.

Leaving was awkward after all that had taken place, but the mediwizard had given Harry his pain medication and he fell into an uneasy sleep. Ron and Hermione slipped out at seven that evening, feeling as exhausted as Harry. They didn't know where to begin. Somehow the world seemed bigger to them as their task loomed ahead of them, and yet the inevitable future seemed so close at hand.

Ron and Hermione stopped into Fred and George's shop, just as the twins were totalling up the day's receipts and tidying up. Here, they received some puzzling news. Fred and George had taken no particular notice of Hedwig as she had flown into an open window at Grimauld Place on the very night that Harry had been hurt. At the time, not knowing of the dire situation Harry was in, this had been an insignificant event. Fred and George had just assumed that Hedwig had been there to deliver a letter from Harry to Ron or Hermione, so they had paid no particular attention when Hedwig flew out with a bunch of papers in her beak. They figured that Ron had forgotten to tie the message onto her leg as was the usual method.

"Ron, Hedwig must have gotten those letters all by herself.! I wonder what they were though," Hermione mused.

"But what papers and why?" Ron rubbed his chin , bidding goodnight to his brothers, who promised to help in any way they could.

Just as they were about to open the door to leave, George suddenly remembered something. "Wait a minute! As soon we got word that Harry was in trouble, I went to the closet to get my cloak and broom and that nasty house-elf of Sirius's was in there binding a bleeding hand and ear. Almost felt sorry for the little git until he said to me, "filthy blood traitor, you and the other one like you, twins, unnatural that is.' Now I think about it, maybe those were owl bites that the creepy little thing was nursing. We all know Hedwig has a nasty bite when she wants something." Ron and Hermione instinctively looked at their scars from Hedwig, who had been instructed to bite until they wrote something of substance back to Harry last year. This startling revelation shed a whole new light on Hedwig's absence. No one wanted to voice that they suspected foul play, but Kreecher was an evil creeping sneak and that was no secret.

Ron and Hermione hurried off to Grimauld Place to question Kreecher. They climbed the steps to the dwelling and made their way to Kreecher's room, if one could call it that, for Kreecher lived behind the furnace among a filthy bed he had made for himself on the floor. The bandages apparently hadn't been changed since having been applied the night of the great storms. They were filthy and the smell that usually arose from this site, was more evident now.

Ron, who was expecting that Hermione would become indignant on Kreecher's behalf, tried to be tactful. "Um, excuse us Kreecher, have you seen Harry's owl, Hedwig lately. She's missing." They heard a distinct spitting noise. Ron began to count to ten to keep his composure, but before he could get to seven, Hermione exploded into a nasty tirade.

"Kreecher, We're going to ask once nicely, get it?" She yelled at the house-elf.

"Kreecher doesn't have to tell you nothing, filth!"

"Oh yes you will, or we'll see to it that everything you've got hidden, all the belongings of your old mistress will be blown to bits!" And she meant it, too. She aimed her wand to a pile of items all covered up with a mouldy old blanket.

"Kreecher won't say nothing. Kreecher won't have to. He won't survive. Kreecher will be free to leave here and serve his rightful family." Ron and Hermione knew that Kreecher had been told of Sirius's death, not that he hadn't been instrumental in bringing it about, but they did not know what he was talking about when he said 'he won't survive'"

"He means Harry, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "He means Harry won't survive!" Ron spat furiously, no longer able to count to ten, but knowing they needed answers.

Now everything was finally dawning on them. With Sirius gone, Kreecher's future would lie with his family. They finally realized what those papers had been. A will. Sirius's will. To will a house-elf to someone was a time sensitive matter. The will had to be notarised within eight weeks of the death of the original owner. Hedwig had been on a private mission of her own. Kreecher had caught the owl stealing papers that he had hidden behind the furnace. Clearly there was something that Kreecher didn't want to be seen in those papers.

"Talk now Kreecher. What have you done to Hedwig!" Hermione was as angry as Ron had ever seen her.

"Kreecher won't say nothing. Doesn't have to. He won't survive. No, he won't survive." He kept muttering, but every time he said it, he banged his head on the furnace." Hermione would usually have tried to stop this destructive behaviour, but didn't seem too concerned with it just now. In fact she seemed to be egging him on."

"Oh yes Kreecher, he will survive." She told him, guessing rightly that Kreecher meant Harry. Now she started to lie so well that Ron couldn't believe he was standing next to the founding member of S.P.E.W. the house-elf rights group. "Harry's coming home tomorrow, here, Kreecher."

"This is my mistress's manor, not that filthy murderers home." They were not surprised when Kreecher erupted into some self abuse upon saying such things. "Alas if Kreecher's fate is so cruelly made, Kreecher will join his mistress and his family on the wall."

"Ew!" Ron choked, thinking back on the horrible wall in the manor where hung the heads of all the deceased house-elfs who had served the Black family.

"Kreecher will not serve filthy scum and his friends." he spat

Now everything came into focus. Kreecher had been willed to Harry by Sirius. They now knew why he had banged his head on something every time he had insulted Harry, his new master. House-elves instinctively punished themselves whenever they spoke or thought pooly of their masters. Ron started in on Kreecher now in the same vein as Hermione had begun.

"Well, when Harry comes home tomorrow, he's going to want his owl and we know you saw her. If we have to go tell him that you did something to his owl, he's going to punish you severely."

"Kreecher does not fear death now that his mistress is gone," said Kreecher miserably

"Oh no Kreecher, Harry'd never kill you, and he'd forbid you to kill yourself," Hermione added, sensing Kreechers next thoughts. "No, he'd take you to Hogwarts where you could serve all the students, you know the mudbloods, blood traitors and yes Kreecher, muggles and squibs."

Kreecher went into a tirade about his poor, poor mistress, betrayed by her no heart son, Sirius. "And Kreecher," if your new master gets his owl back, he may consent to hang your head on the wall beside your family's heads." Kreecher looked at her defiantly, but thoughtfully.

"Kreecher does not answer to you!" he spat

"Well you will answer to Harry, and he's really, really mad, Kreecher. Where is Hedwig!"

"Kreecher does not answer to you!" he said again resolutely.

They threatened Kreecher with everything from enslavement at Hogwarts, to torture, which of course they would never do, but if Harry didn't have Hedwig back by the time he got out of the hospital, there would be hell to pay.

Hermione got an idea. House elfs knew instinctively their master's handwriting. They were magical creatures in their own right. Kreecher knew that Harry was his new master, and he had been commanded to obey him, once the papers had been notarised.

It took a lot of pleading to convince Mrs. Weasley to let them back out this time of night, but given the hard time Harry had been having recently, she consented. They left before she could change her mind.

Professor Snape was standing outside Harry's room. "Visiting hours are over, Miss Granger. "Well, sir, we just wanted a few minutes to say goodnight." Snape eyed them suspiciously, but nonetheless stepped aside. Harry was staring out into the night. He looked at them expectantly.

Ron prepared to belt out the whole mess of information. He stopped short when Harry had reached up to brush the hair out of his face, revealing the famous scar that he usually hid from strangers whenever he could. Ron gaped at the large black and blue bruises on his wrists, which were evidence of their earlier struggle. Ron felt like he was going to be sick. He must have used too much force to restrain him. Ron felt if they all survived this ordeal to it's conclusion, friendship still intact, it would be a miracle.

Ron couldn't take his eyes off Harry's wrists, so Hermione began, "Hedwig must've made it at least through some of the storms. She flew to Sirius's place...Grimauld Place," she corrected, hoping that she hadn't hurt Harry's feelings further by mentioning Sirius. She left with some papers in her beak." Harry wanted his quill, though he was dopey from medicine.

Ron put the quill in his hand and Harry winced as he began to write. Ron knew he'd really hurt him. "Must have taken papers herself?" he scrawled.

"Yes, Harry. They weren't tied to her leg, only there's so much more we have to tell you, it's just hard to begin." Harry just looked like he wanted to hear something, anything at this point. Hermione blurted it all out. "I think Hedwig went to get Sirius's papers and Kreecher had hidden them. We think she found them and Kreecher tried to stop her, because Kreecher is sporting some of the worst owl bites I've ever seen." She told him quickly.

"Did Kreecher hurt Hedwig!" Harry was shaking and his quill showed it.

"We don't know Harry, but she did make it out of Grimauld Place with the papers."

"What papers?" Harry scrawled, wincing with every letter he wrote.

"I think, maybe a deed to Kreecher, Harry," Ron said.

"To me!" Harry wrote, underlining the word, 'me.' "What for?"

"Think, Harry. If Kreecher was freed by Sirius's death, he would be free to leave Grimauld Place and blab all the information he knows about The Order Of The Phoenix." They could hear Harry sigh above the regular noise of the breathing apparatus.

"Does Kreecher know where Hedwig is?" Harry wrote.

"He said he doesn't have to answer to us, Harry and he referred, we think, to you in saying that 'he won't survive.'"

"If I do, I'll..." but Harry stopped writing than and the quill fell from his hand as he rubbed his left wrist gingerly. Ron was looking at the floor, guilt ridden.

Harry retrieved his quill and wrote, "Don't Ron, you had to. It's fine."

"But Harry, look at your hands, they're all bruised. The only parts of you that weren't hurt to begin with. I could've used my wand, but I just reacted. I was worried you'd really hurt yourself. You really were popping a clog."

"Sorry," Harry wrote.

Ron still looked awful. Harry wrote, explaining, "You didn't do it. It only bruised because I lost so much blood, and the doctors thinned it so I wouldn't get a clot in my lungs...gross eh?"

"Thanks Harry," Ron said, feeling only somewhat relieved. Now they had to tell him their idea. "Harry, we think you should write to Kreecher and announce yourself as his new master. In a note, you could order him to tell you where Hedwig is if he knows." Feeling that it was at least worth a shot, Harry scrawled a note that made his stomach feel heavy though he had eaten nothing in weeks. Hermione dictated what she thought he should write. It took a long time with Harry's not only left handed writing, but the added discomfort of the bruises.

As they were leaving with a declaration of Harry, claiming his ownership of Kreecher, Fred and George apparated outside the door of Harry's room. They were suspicious when the twins were not turned away by Snape, who actually followed them into Harry's room. They knew that a schedule had been made for Harry to have company, especially when his guard was someone whom Harry was not social with. Ron and Hermione now noticed that Fred and George had volunteered for every night shift until Harry would be released.

"How do you like that, Snape didn't even kick them out." They strained to hear bits of the conversation between the twins and Snape, even though they were anxious to get back and question Kreecher. They couldn't believe the conversation, which included phrases such as, 'subconscious learning', 'repetition is the key,' and other things they couldn't decipher. It struck them all as suspicious, and Harry worried somewhat that they might just be testing their products on him while he slept, but Fred and George had always been relatively harmless up until now. Harry figured that the worst that could happen would be that he'd wake up with no eyebrows or something. Ron and Hermione both knew that if Snape was involved, Harry wouldn't like it.

Brushing past Mrs Weasley with a quick hello, Ron and Hermione went to find Kreecher immediately. They had just arrived in time. Kreecher had made a sack on a pole like a hobo, which they could tell by the outline of the bulk in the sack, that it contained his most precious property, pictures and small old belongings of his former mistress.

"Going somewhere, Kreecher?" Hermione goaded, sounding very mean.

"Kreecher will not answer to you."

"Well maybe you will answer to this than," Ron said, thrusting Harry's note into Kreecher's old hands.

The house- elf's eyes goggled in disbelief. In the note, Harry had declared himself , supposedly on Sirius's orders, Kreecher's new master. The note demanded to know what Hedwig had taken and had ordered the house-elf to tell him if he had injured the owl. For extra precaution, Hermione had also instructed Harry to order Kreecher to stay put in Grimauld Place.

"Kreecher does not answer to you." They were stumped now. "Well, you do have to answer your new master, Kreecher you know that." The house elf used his own brand of magic to verify the letter as his new master's and was destroyed by the fact that it was genuine.

"If Harry has to come and ask you in person, or whatever you are, he'll likely torture you, you know,' Hermione lied outright. The house-elf, had clearly been raised on hate of Harry Potter and had no doubt been told outright lies about him. After all, Kreecher's masters, were the Blacks, and had been Voldemort supporters. Kreecher now considered this a real threat. Someone who could survive an attack by the dark lord himself, being only a baby at the time, must have considerable powers. Ron and Hermione could see the internal struggle going on within the house-elves eyes. Should he betray his mistress's memory to save his own skin?

"Kreecher will not serve Harry Potter, no matter what the filthy blood traitor wrote, giving poor Kreecher away," lamented the house-elf angrily.

"Kreecher, you didn't even serve Sirius. You let this house fall into ruin," protested Hermione, angry at the remark against Sirius and Harry.

Just as Kreecher fell into a tirade, crying about his poor dead mistress, in reference to Sirius's deceased mother, also an avowed anti non pure blood, Ron and Hermione, feared they were getting nowhere. Suddenly standing as straight as he could, Kreecher began a confession. "Kreecher has made a last stand for his mistress. It was bad enough that her treacherous son lived in this house with all his filthy friends, always plotting, always trying to erase her memory. Kreecher will not see one so despised in his mistress's eyes, take up residency in her house. Kreecher will destroy the house, before this happens!" Kreecher was positively mad.

"Kreecher spoke to his mistress and she agrees it is for the best that the house be burned, rather than to fall into blood traitor's hands who will use it for their rebellious purposes. It was all poor Kreecher do to promise to do this, after Kreecher failed his mistress so miserably! Whaaaa!" Kreecher began to do himself bodily harm, smashing himself headfirst into the furnace repeatedly. Ron and Hermione were not keen to stop him, but they needed information.

"How did you fail the old battle-axe?" Ron demanded.

"If Kreecher wasn't forbidden to do magic, Kreecher would be presenting his mistress with a new feather hat right now, he would," Kreecher said dreamily, as if picturing himself presenting Mrs Black with a new hat...made from Hedwig's feathers!

"What did you do to Hedwig!" Ron demanded, aiming his wand at Kreecher.

"Poor Kreecher is the victim, evil foul tempered nasty snow cold bird," Kreecher spat. "Kreecher hid master's papers. Kreecher knows the business of the manor. Master signed nasty cold hearted papers the night he was sent to the Ministry Of Magic. Knew he wasn't to darken the doorstep of my mistress's house again, he did."

"Kreecher what did you do?" Hermione demanded

"Kreecher hid the papers. The evil bird was going through my mistress's private things," Kreecher drew the items he was hiding in the sack closer to himself. The bird is a thief. She stole the papers. She hurt Kreecher with her cruel talons and beak. I hit her with a broom when she flew to my mistress's beautiful portrait and put her nasty droppings all down the front of it. How my mistress cried in humiliation! Kreecher sent a spell after the foul animal, but she flew out the door. If Kreecher could have caught her..." Once again that evil dream like state overtook him as he thought of what he could have done to Hedwig.

Ron and Hermione now knew what the papers had been. Sirius's will, at least where it concerned Kreecher. The Order had been very worried about this issue after Sirius's untimely death, for if freed by Sirius's death, Kreecher would no doubt have left to serve the Malfoy family, who was tied to the Blacks through marriage. Narcissa, Draco Malfoy's mother was a Black. Kreecher would than have been free to tell his new masters everything he had learned while skulking around the headquarters of the Order Of The Phoenix, which would have spelled disaster. Apparently Sirius hadn't been as reckless as some made him out to be. He had protected the Order to the last by willing Kreecher to Harry. This did not however answer their question. Where was Hedwig?

They knew now that they had extracted all the information they were likely to obtain from Kreecher, and Hermione felt quite brilliant for having Harry tax himself long enough to add to his note that Kreecher was to remain in Grimauld Place. They now knew that Sirius had put similar orders on the house -elf. Now they needed to inform the Order members to be on guard for any suspicious behaviour from Kreecher. They warned Kreecher that he was to do no harm to the premises. It now struck them that they had passed Mrs Blacks portrait without it being covered up and she had not screamed incessantly at them. Hedwig's droppings no doubt had made her run for cover for the time being.

Ron and Hermione entered the sitting room where Mrs Weasley had been talking to Professor McGonagall about a new potion Professor Snape had made. She stopped talking immediately when she saw them. Tonks stepped passed them with a quick hello and a pot of tea for the ladies in the room

They both started talking at once about Kreecher and Hedwig and Harry's distress about her absence. The adults too now felt guilty for never having considered the owl's absence. Mrs. Weasley put in an alert through the floo powder network and people were dispatched to look for Hedwig and inquire as to her whereabouts everywhere.

"If those were legal documents, Percy would have been the perfect one to ask, as he works at the ministry and no doubt would know someone in the house-elf registry office. If Hedwig took those papers to be notarised, that's where she would have gone. If Arthur wasn't away..." she sighed at this point, raising her brows in a furrow of sadness.

Five minutes later after sitting anxiously, Kingsley Shaklebolt's head appeared in the fire. He complimented Ron and Hermione for their excellent work, which made Ron, who wanted to be an Auror like Shaklebolt, beam. The house-elf who had belonged to the Black family, now belonged legally to Mr. Harry Potter. The wizarding world at large knew nothing of Harry's condition, and therefore the documents had not raised any suspicion or caused any red flags, other than the state of the owl who had waited for the documents to be registered, which as the clerk recalled was poor. She said she'd had a mind to call someone from the department for the care and control of magical creatures to report an abuse, but the owl was gone before the inspector arrived. Apparently, a letter of concern had been sent to Privet Drive, Harry's last known address to state that he would be liable for inspection if his owl of any other pet was found to be in that sorry state ever again. This would explain why no one in the wizarding world knew about the situation with Hedwig before now.

"Well at least we know she's alive...or was anyhow on Wednesday." They had to take this small consolation, because that's all they were going to get for now. Mrs Weasley although terribly concerned for Hedwig and Harry's state should something happen to his beloved owl, forbid them to go out looking for the owl at this late hour.

"There is a team of aurors on it dear, no one better," she assured them, but she looked anxious too. Kreecher hadn't known it, but a tracing charm had been placed on him the moment the miserable little creature found out about Sirius's death. He could not have left undetected. Ron and Hermione felt better knowing this.

In order to shift the conversation for a little while, while they waited for news on Hedwig, Ron asked, "What potion were you talking about when we arrived, mom?"

"Well,' said Mrs Weasley, glancing at Professor McGonagall as though asking permission to tell them something. Professor McGonagall nodded her approval. Mrs Weasley positively beamed. "Professor Snape has concocted a healing potion which targets respiratory weaknesses or abnormalities, which can be administered by muggle methods. Doctor Green has said it will, at least cause no harm, so even if it doesn't work, nothing ventured, nothing gained." Mrs Weasley swelled with pride as she told them that Professor Snape had gotten the idea from Fred and Georges's self blowing bubble gum recipe. Now here was an eye opener if ever there was one. What on earth was Snape doing conferring with Fred and George? He'd always given them mediocre marks and had ridden them about as much as Ron and any other Weasley. An alliance seemed unlikely, if not improbable.

Friday morning dawned clear and bright. Ron and Hermione were going to go to see Harry before Snape administered the lung healing potion and before sneaking off to look for Hedwig. They wondered if Harry had been told about it, but supposed he hadn't so as not to get his hopes up, or scare him, being it was made by Snape.

They met in the kitchen. The room was empty, except for Tonks, who was yawning widely, while munching a bit of toast and what looked like very strong coffee. They knew she must be very tired, because her usual hair colour change hadn't taken place. In fact, the same platinum hair she had sported for over a week, had simply been tied into an unruly pony-tail, similar to how Hermione kept hers when she was extremely busy or just too tired to bother with it.

"Pour you some more coffee, Tonks?" Hermione asked, seeing Tonks drain her last drop of coffee and look at the fresh steaming pot of coffee across the room on the buffet table as if it might as well be miles away.

"Please," she said gratefully. "Triple shift, last one tonight, than I'm gonna sleep for a week!"

"What's with all the extra shifts?" Ron asked.

"Well, not shifts exactly. On top of my regular shifts, I was subpoenaed to report to the Ministry of Magic's Information Branch, regarding the Dementors outside of Harry's room the first night he was admitted in secrecy."

"So it's all out now...about Harry? Well, we kept it secret as long as we could I guess," Hermione said, feeling sorry for Harry. The last thing he needed now was more pressure.

"They said they'd be sending someone down to interview Harry, complete with subpoena for him to co operate fully in their investigation of the storms and the attacks in London."

"But Harry can't even talk yet!" Ron said indignantly.

"There's nothing even Dumbledore can do," Tonks said sadly. "They have ordered security to let the interview take place privately. They have stated that they feel Harry will not be put at risk by this. That's what the Minister for Information said. They're going in to see Harry today."

"When, Tonks?" Hermione was quickly grabbing some toast to travel with.

"They said they'd be there right around staff changeover time."

"Oh Harry'll be furious!" Ron said, grabbing some toast and running out the door with a quick goodbye to his mother before she would have chance to question them. "The last Harry's heard from those gits at the Ministry, they were calling him unbalanced and glory seeking. Now they want to talk to him?" Ron was angry on Harry's behalf. Ron seemed even more concerned than Hermione now. Percy now worked as assistant to the minister for information...yeah, Harry would be furious!

"Maybe it won't be so bad. I mean they can see how hurt he is. They'll likely just re-schedule, once they see for themselves how bad off he is." Hermione said, always the optimist. They left for St. Mungos, hoping to see Harry before the interview would take place.

A/N

HI, if I forget anyone, I'm so sorry! All reviews mean so much to me! I am working on fixing grammar and spelling. I just get so excited to post, I've missed a few. Thanks for catching some of the more glaring errors. It is very nice of you.

Melindaleo: I want to thank you so much for helping me along the way when I was first just handwriting my story and wasn't finished yet. When I first started my story, I didn't even know about fanfiction. I just loved the hobby. I love your story, Power Of Emotion and it's sequel, Curse Of The Damned. POE was the first story I ever read and reviewed on this site, and thanks to it, I have read so many other stories by talented people like you. Thanks so much for your kindness and help. Some of the upcoming stuff in this story, has been directly inspired by Melindaleo, particularly, Harry and Ginny. Thanks for putting up with a whole year, "how do you think this sounds?" I never would have posted without you!

Lucidity: Nice catch on the 'scar thing!' I have changed that, so thank you so much! Tyler's family history will reveal why exactly he has the wild magic with animals...and some people. Actually, you are very perceptive, because this story's title ties in with what exactly Tyler turns out to be. I made up the "hawking" curse, so I am thrilled you liked it. I loved Remus in your story, "Secrets and Lies." I was almost complete my story when I started reading yours, but was inspired to add a bit more Remus into it at the end because of your story, so thank you for the inspiration. I think we see Snape about the same way. Harry's animagus form is indeed of the feline family...if it's real, that is! I have only watched ER a few times. You being a nurse can probably handle more surgery scenes than I can. I do like the show though, it's so intense, but Dr Green is just a name. I can't wait to read more of yours, and I want to thank you for all your help.

Nickle Nerd: How did you get your name? I just wanted to thank you so much for your kind reviews, they made me happy all day, and they really mean a lot. Hope you stay with the story and that is interesting for you because your reviews were so kind!

Beth 5572: Thanks so much for the encouragement! I didn't realize how much reviews would mean to me, but they are so inspiring and really help me to post! I'm new to this, so your review meant so much to me. Thanks again!

Lourdes: Thanks so much for your consistent and kind reviews. I don't think many people take the time to review all chapters, so I can't tell you how much it meant to me that you did. It makes me know that someone is actually reading and that is so uplifting! Your reviews have put a smile on my face for sure! Thanks again!

Chris: I was absolutely blown away by your review! That I would be the first review you have left, is very humbling indeed. I was so happy! Yes indeed, it is Hamilton, and unfortunately, our politicians are at it again with the Royal Botanical Gardens. The mind boggles, does it not? It is so beautiful! I hope the RBG and surrounding Coote's Paradise is protected, because there are still deer there. I love the Bruce Trail as well! I can't believe I heard from someone who actually knows where I'm talking about. Ginny will appear very prominently coming up and indeed will be part of Harry's recover and future strength...and weakness just to create some more angst. Ginny is a major part of the story starting about a third of the way in. It wasn't going to be a major part until I read melindaleo's Power Of Emotion, and I liked the two of them together, so I went for it. Thanks so much again! Are you from Ontario?

Light barrier: Thanks so much for your kind review and encouragement. I wasn't sure I'd even get reviews, so when I did, it knocked my socks off! It makes me happy, so thanks again!

Bujiana: Wow! I'm blushing from your very kind and inspiring review! I'm working on making less grammar and spelling mistakes. Reviews like yours definitely make me want to post more often. Your review made me smile and meant so much to me and I hope you continue to enjoy, because it makes this hobby so worthwhile. Thanks again!

Fhippogriff: You know, I never even thought about that before. You are right, the tough comments from Dumbledore and Snape probably shock Harry into fighting harder. I never thought about it that way. You are so deep! I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to review and for doing so in such a nice way. I really appreciate the reviews as I am new to this site.

msbiro: I hope you were able to find the story, as I had to take it down to repost when it failed to come up under search. It is still not coming up under search, but some people are finding it, so I'm just going to continue. I really want to thank you for your very kind review and hope you can find this again, and know how much I appreciate your having taken the time to review. It means so much!

Insanity-of-the-Owl: I just wanted to thank you for your kind review and hope that you can still find the story now that it is reposted. I lost my previous reviews, including yours, so that was very sad as I so appreciated it! Thanks so much!

HarrySlytherinSon: Great name by the way! I lost your review when I reposted, but I had to thank you so much for taking the time and I really hope you can find and read the story now that it is reposted. Thanks so much for reviewing!

noname: Ah, I see you like the torture Harry stories as much as I do, as long as he doesn't die in a story! He will get somewhat better, but now that he is back at Hogwarts, there are deatheater's children about...Don't look for a full recovery any time soon! I really appreciate your review, because you specified some of the things you like, and I can promise you, there is more of that on the way. I want to thank you so much for your kind and encouraging review, especially since I can guarantee some more of the stuff you have specified you like. Thanks again!

Cat Calls: Firstly, I want to thank you for your story, "Dumbledore's Army." It is blowing me away! I'm humbled that you have taken the time to review because you have written that you are quite a busy person on your own A/N's.You are so perceptive about Harry having an animagus, real or dreamed, that has feline! Thanks so much for your tips about posting on this site. I would be honoured to offer any tips about the 'we're so sad' things. Your writing is so good, I hope mine is half as good as yours! There are about five stories that have made a big impression on me, and yours is one of them. Some of the others are mentioned here in these responses. Some people are so talented on the site, and you are one of them. The writing style of my favourites is so varied, but they all really impress me. I appreciate the all the help and the kind review. It has really boosted me! Thanks!

Mike (12): I wanted to thank you so much for your kind review and hope that you have found the story again now that it is reposted. I lost all my reviews through reposting, but wanted to thank you so much for taking the time, as it means so much to me. Hope you found this so I could thank you and hope to see you reading further.

Eladriewan: I have read and been inspired by all of your writing, especially, "Here Today, Gone Tomorrow, Without A Yesterday." I hope you get time to read my story, and especially time to update yours! Thank you so much for your help with this site and your encouragement. It has meant so much to me. Five or six of the stories of the above mentioned people, have been very inspiring, including yours and I love your descriptive writing, especially when it comes to angst, so I hope my angsty parts come out even close to yours. Thanks!

Tini Tinuviel: Your "I Know I'm Not Sleeping," has me on the edge, so I had to write that here! I wanted to thank you for your kind encouragement and help with this site. I had to repost, so I lost my previous reviews, so I wanted to thank you for your kind and encouraging review and I hope you can find this story now that it is reposted. I have fixed some of the mistakes you mentioned, and I'm working on fixing spelling and grammar. I get so excited to post that I think I miss some of the mistakes! Thanks so much!

Rosina Ferguson: It was so nice of you to review for me! I have been following "Book Of Ages," and can't wait for an update. Thank you for the words of encouragement and the pointers. It is so appreciated, especially from someone in England where the real stories originate! It was a great boost for me to get a review from you! I hope you can still find the story because I had to repost it. I hope you can review more because I respect your writing, so it would be even more appreciated. Thanks again!

Sorry about the long list, but I really appreciate the reviews!


	10. Death by Weasley

Percy Weasley strode regally up to Professor Snape. "Severus," he began, as the veins stood out on Snape's neck and forehead at the pompous nature of his former student.

"I'm here on official ministry business to interview Mr. Potter," Percy stated formally, as though he had never met Harry before, let alone broken bread with him.

"Mr Weasley," returned Snape, in the same dark menacing tones he used in his classes. "I daresay you should address your elders with more respect and less cheek. It might come back to bite you in the rear in future."

"Yes, yes, I'll remember that when I'm Minister For Magic." Percy sniffed haughtily.

"Careful what you wish for Weasley, you may just get it. I'd wait to see if you want to turn that man's page." Snape said in reference to the newly ousted Minister, Cornelius Fudge.

"Your advice is unsolicited, Professor Snape," Percy mocked. "What is requested, to put it mildly is an interview with one Harry Potter." He handed Snape an order to let him conduct his interview. Snape stepped aside to let Percy pass. Fred and George were just packing up. "Oh, and there is one other thing I should inform you of, Professor Snape. It is highly likely that Minister Fudge will win re election, so I should show more respect if I were you." Snape looked like he would like nothing better than to hex Percy as he strode toward Harry's room.

"Boys," Percy gave as the only means of greeting to Fred and George who were packing up after having spent the night with Harry.

"Turncoat," the twins returned in unison, without skipping a beat.

"Now really boys, you shouldn't make waves. My job will soon be the only thing supporting you after your little shop closes."

"Our shop's just fine, thanks!" Fred shot back at Percy angrily.

"Yes, well, I have it on good authority that Zonko's Joke Shop was just approved a major expansion project for a new shop in Diagon Alley, complete with expropriation rights," Percy said smugly. "If it hadn't been for the fact that you attended Hogwarts, I'd say stay in school boys." That's it, he'd done it, but Fred and George had both promised their mother no physical conflicts against Percy.

"What right have you got to be here?" demanded George. Percy produced his orders for an interview with Harry, importantly.

"Minister feels I'm the most qualified for the job." He put his chin up importantly

"Well, we'll just sit right here 'til you're through with him than," Fred said firmly, but Percy pointed out that the orders were quite clear, an interview alone.

"We'll be right here, Harry, just outside. We're not leaving," George assured Harry, who was full of hatred toward Percy, the likes of which he hadn't felt for any mortal since Draco Malfoy or even Dudley Dursley.

"Right than Harry, down to it," Percy looked at his list sitting in the chair recently vacated by Fred. Clearly, the interview's intention was to frame Harry in a small way, holding him partly responsible for the Ministry's apparent lack of hard evidence of Voldemort's return, and given this, they couldn't possibly have warned the public of the storms before they happened.

Harry would never forget how infuriated and downhearted he'd been last year when Ron had received a letter from Percy, warning him that Harry was a liar and a bad influence. "Liar am I?" Harry thought. "You haven't seen anything yet." His eyes flashed angrily. Harry naturally assumed that someone had told Percy that he couldn't speak, although it had to be pretty obvious, given the tubes in his mouth.

"Harry, if only you'd come to me when you felt you were in real trouble. My superiors at the Ministry of Information Branch, could have placed you in a relocation program..." Harry wondered if Percy had ever seen a muggle cops and robbers show on television. Apparently not, as usually all of the people supposedly protected, ended up dead on these programs, or was this Percy's intent? Harry wondered. "If I could just lose myself from Voldemort, don't you think I would, you pompous ass," Harry thought, becoming more agitated by the minute.

Percy was so intent on finishing his interview, Harry could tell that he hadn't grown out of his hero worship for his bosses, in this case, Mr. Atrium. "Mr. Atrium trusts me completely of course. He said he might even pop in to evaluate my skills with this interview. Mr. Atrium's considerable responsibilities to the Ministry, keep him away for days at a time. Mr. Atrium relies on me solely for all his articling work. Mr. Atrium..." 'Please, kill me now,' Harry mocked to himself. This was worse than the last fan club Percy had been the only member of, for his former, now deceased boss, Mr. Crouch. Harry thought for sure that at least on this point, Percy would have learned his lesson, for his last supervisor, had turned out to be hiding a convicted death eater, his only son, at his home, after having freed him from Azkaban Prison. In return for his actions, this same son had killed his father. Percy had merely distanced himself from the situation and went on, to the surprise of his entire family.

In fact, Percy had become so self serving, that he had broken the heart of his long time girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater by insinuating that she would benefit from elocution lessons and possibly finishing school, so as to be the perfect companion, aka housewife with a smile and be able to fit in with the rest of the spouses of important dignitaries. In other words, not embarrass him.

Percy mused about Penelope Clearwater's lack of motivation to 'join the establishment.' It should have come as no surprise. She had always wanted to be a cosmetician. A career not noteworthy enough for Percy's high standards. Penelope had always felt sorry for the half hags . It was one thing to be a hag, but a little unnerving to meet one in a pub or somewhere that was half hag, half normal looking. I mean where do you go from there? It would be easy for one to just become full hag, you'd be the best looking one of the bunch, but to want to look human...and therein lies the problem. Penelope had figured that there was a fortune in gold to be made in this noble endeavour, and it had burned Percy to see how successful she'd become. One of her make over subjects had actually graced the front cover of Witch Weekly Magazine. Percy chewed on the end of his quill, thoughtfully, no doubt thinking about her.

Harry wondered when Percy would stop talking about himself and start the interview, not that he was anxious or anything, but now it had come to it, Harry wondered if Percy had even noticed that he was unable to speak. As if in answer to his question, Percy looked at Harry–really looked at him. "Harry, can you speak?" Harry blinked 'no,' but Percy didn't understand. Harry didn't care He had no intention of co operating. Just when Harry thought he could hate Percy no more than Draco Malfoy or Dudley Dursley, Percy did something that Harry knew he'd never forgive in a month of Sundays, that is he lived through it.

"This will never do, Harry," Percy said, appraising Harry's ventilator, which impeded his subject, or rather victim, from speaking. Harry did not know if anyone had warned Percy not to interfere with his current course of treatment, or maybe they had, and Percy thought he was better than all the doctors and mediwizards; yes that would be it. They'd all been mistaken and he alone would prove them wrong. Truth was, Percy had only ever failed one subject in school, basic first aid. The textbook, 'Managing Minor Maladies In Your Own Home And When To Seek Professional Attention,' by none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, had been the curriculum gold standard for years until it had been discovered that the author was a fraud. Percy had just never been interested in rendering assistance to an injured person. He would merely stand around at an accident or nasty splinching giving pompous advice to staring rubber neckers.

"Listen Harry, I need this interview. I'm up for promotion. Mr Atrium..." Harry blocked out the rest of his words, terrified as Percy drew his wand. "You'll thank me for this Harry. Mr. Atrium feels, and I concur, that this whole nonsense of keeping you breathing artificially and stuff is balderdash." Percy looked nervous as he aimed his wand. "Right than Harry, just lie still. I daresay with me doing it, it won't hurt a bit." Harry was strongly reminded of the time he'd been to the mall, during Mrs Figg's unfortunate lay up, and he'd seen a travelling magic show. Percy looked like just like the magician who'd been attempting to saw someone in half. In Harry's thoughts, his life flashed before his eyes and he could almost picture Percy, "Ladies and gentlemen, watch as I pull a rabbit out of my hat."

Harry had already decided to live. He didn't want Percy taking that away from him. A few days ago, in a moment of despair, this would have been ideal. He'd been angry about not receiving wizarding medicine, and he'd had his doubts as to whether everyone was being so careful about not transferring him to wizard medicine because of how high the stakes for his survival were not only to him, but indeed the whole world. However Harry had come to believe and even accept that muggle medicine had to be the way of it for now at least.

Harry was trying desperately to choke out some words, but all of his almost non exsistant voice only came out in muffled unintelligible, "nnnnooo" It was too quiet and raspy to hear. He blinked 'no' furiously, but to no avail, than he saw it, Hagrid's umbrella, lying across the bedside table right beside him. Percy was so focussed on what he was about to do, that he didn't notice Harry's arm slowly stretch out, open palmed. 'Accio wand!' he thought desperately, for no command would issue from his mouth, though he kept trying, ventilator and all. Than something happened Harry could not explain. Hagrid's umbrella flew obediently into his hand!

"Regurgitalia Respiritorus!" Percy had landed a spell directly onto Harry's throat and chest, just as Harry had shouted in his mind, 'Riktusempra!' The last thing Harry saw of Percy, was him smacking into a wall and falling to the floor, but it was too late. Percy's spell had already been cast.

Hagrid's umbrella slipped from Harry's sweat soaked hands. The trachea tube slithered up his throat like a snake, painfully sucking with it Harry's last breath and he felt it hit his teeth hard on the way out. He clutched at his throat. His nose and face were bloody. He tried to get up to summon help, but his eyes unfocused and he fell, gasping for what little breath he could draw on his own. He looked up to the ceiling, trying desperately to stay calm and feeling each effort to draw breath, burn his chest in agony. From somewhere off in the distance, he could see fireworks going off, the echoing bangs reverberating in his ears. He knew this was supposed to hurt, but he couldn't feel it anymore. He decided to leave St. Mungos.

His body rose, not gracefully, as if floating as he had done in other dreams, but clumsy and rather more difficult than merely floating, which most young witches and wizards could do at two years of age. No, this was, flap your arms or die, like a muggle cartoon that Harry had seen many times before, it being Dudley's favourite. His great wings beat strongly, but clumsily. A solo maiden flight for feather covered, lion hearted Harry Potter. As Harry looked down upon his body, he noticed that his eyes were open and dead looking. "Oh, if only I'd closed them!" he thought, than I could just go. Now I've gotta look."

"He's turning blue, get the healers!" Hermione shouted, having rushed into Harry's room upon hearing the thud of Percy Weasley's limp body hit the door. She and Ron had been waiting with Fred, George and Snape in the corridor. The monitors on Harry's life support system were beeping furiously.

"Stand aside, Miss Granger!" Snape pushed her roughly to the other side of the wall. Hermione wouldn't normally have stood for this. Fred and George pushed past she and Ron and took up beside Snape, as if they knew what they were doing, but they were taking too long to do it, and in all the confusion, no one had summoned a doctor.

Everyone stepped on or around Percy like he wasn't there. Harry thought he'd watch the fireworks from above, but than the whole world went black and he knew no more. "He's flat lined!" Hermione screamed, following the bouncing dot to the bottom of the screen on Harry's monitor.

Snape drew an impossibly long syringe from his robes with shaking hands and with only a second of hesitation, plunged the entire needle's length into Harry's chest and right into his heart. He bent over, ear to Harry's heart. "It's not working! By the time it takes effect, he will be permanently damaged." Professor Snape seemed to have made up his mind, that given the dire circumstances, the 'Enervate' spell should not be spared as an option to save Harry's life. The Enervate spell had saved the lives of countless people since it's inception as a means of first aid.

"Professor Snape, no! You could still kill him!" Hermione stood in the way of his wand.

"Miss Granger, your friend is nearly dead. We don't have time!" Harry's lips had turned a nasty shade of blue. His skin was grey. Hermione leapt onto Harry's bed, looked him right in his still open eyes, and screamed at him. "You're not leaving us now, not after all this!"

What she did next, stunned everyone in the room. Hermione doubled up her fist and before anyone could stop her, hit Harry right in the chest–hard. She leaned down placing her mouth over his, and pinching his nose with her fingers, she breathed for him. "Ron, come here!" she ordered between breaths. "Put your hands together here." She pointed to Harry's diaphragm. "Now Push here five times," I breathe, you keep his heart beating." Ron was reluctant, but quickly followed Hermione's usually superior instructions. He knelt on the side of Harry's bed, pushing on his chest for reasons he was just cottoning onto.

It seemed like all was lost. Harry's eyes had the glazed over look of someone long dead. "Out of the way, girl!" Snape ordered Hermione. She had just finished a breath. Ron had paused, staring at Snape's outstretched wand. Just than everyone's head turned from Snape to Harry, who had just gulped a raspy strained breath, and blinked several times. Harry's breaths came in short coughing spasms and he was dizzy with lack of oxygen, but he was alive. He tried to sit up in his panic, not remembering where he was or why he was there. Snape lowered his wand and swept out of the room, ordering them all, unnecessarily to watch Harry closely.

Hermione positively beamed at Harry, "Oh Harry! You did it, you came back." Harry, still not remembering anything that had taken place, tried to talk automatically. He looked from Ron to Hermione, but found his throat had been left so raw from the tubes that he still could not speak. He turned his head, still wheezing and gasping for air, to see the ventilator lying in a mess beside him. His oxygen deprived mind could not begin to understand what had taken place as he felt his eyes rolling back into his head.

"What...wh..." Harry suddenly whispered a moment later,remembering Percy's attack. Ron was uncomfortable even looking at Harry now. It had been his own brother who had nearly killed him. Ron looked away from Harry to Percy. Fred and George seemed to share the shame. It felt like it had been a fight between brothers. The pain, besides Harry's obvious physical discomfort, was palpable in the room now. The Weaslys had what they considered a brother lying in a hospital bed, and another who was certain to be charged with attempted murder on Harry.

Harry was still trying to clear his mind. He still couldn't seem to draw enough breath to sustain him, and he couldn't figure out why his chest hurt more now than it had for days. Still in his confusion, he looked from Ron to Fred and George, and finally to Percy, who still lay in a heap on the floor. He knew that Mrs Weasley would now be burdened with yet another problem. He felt it was all his fault. For as much as he'd been falsely accused of attention seeking, Harry wished he could just disappear. He felt he had brought nothing but hardship on the Weasley family, and yet they stood by him like he was one of their own.

Hermione was torn in sympathy for Harry and the Weasleys. She grasped Harry's hand tightly as Professor Snape led Doctor Green into the room, followed by Stephanie and several mediwizards. Doctor Green looked grave as he took in Harry's still blue lips and tinged skin. Harry was terrified he'd put the tubes back in, although even he had to admit, at this point, barely breathing felt like aerobic exercise.

"Alright, Harry, we're just going to test your blood oxygen level," Stephanie soothed as Doctor Green drew a blood sample. Stephanie place an oxygen mask over Harry's face and his breaths though laboured, were easier. "No Harry, don't try to talk yet," she warned him as he opened his mouth to try to ask something. "Just slowly breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, that's it dear." Stephanie was observing Harry's monitors very carefully, her forefinger on Harry's wrist, taking his pulse. Harry was dimly aware of mediwizards gathered around Percy, who was now sitting shakily on the edge of the extra bed used by his over night companions.

"I...I didn't think..." Percy stammered, as a mediwizard poked her wand into the gash at the back of his head where he'd hit the wall. She was none too gentle either, having been filled in on his assault on her patient.

"No, you didn't think Percy!" Fred stormed angrily. "You never think—of anything but yourself!"

"You could've killed him! I swear if you had..." George's face was torn between sorrow and rage.

"Ron, you know I'd never do anything to hurt you, or Harry." Percy looked pleadingly at Ron.

"You did hurt him Percy! You hurt us..." Ron looked at him with a pained expression. "Just the way it used to be with all of us. Dad..." He said the word dad, looking down at the floor. "Always told us to just turn the other cheek when people teased us about our clothes or lack of money, but he told us if anyone attacked us, we weren't to cast the first curse, but we were to cast the last. Harry couldn't turn the other cheek Percy, because you weren't man enough to insult him to his face. Harry found that letter Percy! The one you wrote me to stop hanging around with him–the one where you wrote the cruelest, and mean spirited things about him. Harry never teased me Percy, even when we were little, and he's rich, but it doesn't matter to him at all! Harry didn't have a father to tell him to turn the other cheek. He just had us, and you had to tear that up! What else can you do to him Percy, What?" Ron was yelling himself horse. "Do you fancy dad was right. Perce? That we should defend one another?"

Ron seemed to have taken it upon himself to avenge the attack on Harry. He pulled his wand from his jeans pocket and was just about to curse Percy, when his wand flew from his hand and his eyes followed it into Harry's outstretched palm. Harry had grabbed Hagrid's umbrella again when the doctors and Professor Snape had stepped out for a discussion. No verbal command had been given, yet there it was in Harry's possession. Percy had uncringed to stare at Harry as well.

Harry was extremely agitated with pain and with the situation around him. He was furious with himself, feeling hot tears falling from his eyes and dampening his hair. He brushed aside the oxygen mask. "Stop this...stop it...you're brothers! This is what he wants...Please...stop." Harry held his shaking hands up to cover his face and showed surprising strength when Hermione tried to draw them down to get a better look at him. Ron's wand and Hagrid's umbrella clattered to the floor, leaving a tense silence in the room except for Harry's ragged breathing.

Stephanie, the doctors and Professor Snape rushed back in as Harry's monitors went ballistic. She ushered everyone out and gently replaced the oxygen mask. Harry sank back onto his pillows, closing his eyes to block it all out. He had almost died at the hands of his best friend's brother, and now brother was pitted against brother.

I'm sorry, mate," Ron said dejectedly, leaving the room, not even bothering to retrieve his wand. No one said anything out in the hall, not wanting to upset Harry even further. They all just glared at Percy, who opened his mouth to say something than thought better of it. Percy was very pale, and after opening his mouth several more times, but not having the courage to speak, he finally stammered, "Tell mom and dad I'm sorry...Tell Harry...tell them ..." He shook his head, unable to continue–and apparated.

The remaining Weasley brothers, didn't know whether to feel glad or slightly sorry. 'Glad,' Ron decided. "We don't need this." Hermione, who had always been tender hearted and easy to find forgiveness for other's trespasses, was slightly ashamed of herself for having to agree with Ron. Percy had been downright reckless with Harry's very life.

About an hour later, Doctor Green and the head mediwizard Larkin, left Harry's room, leaving a mediwizard in charge. Ron found his voice first, as Professor Snape and Stephanie stepped out of the room. "You didn't...do that to him again, did you?" He mimicked a tube in the throat.

"No. We really considered it, but as the time went on, your Professor Snape's potion seemed to become more effective. Professor Snape gave Harry another injection of the medicine about twenty minutes ago." Stephanie told them. Everyone cringed, remembering Snape plunging the huge needle into Harry's chest. Needless to say, Harry was not impressed. The first injection had been painless as Harry was not conscious. This time it hurt like hell, and Harry wondered if Snape had enjoyed inflicting pain on him, but Snape had given no indication of this, at least not outwardly in front of all the others. Harry had not cried out, he would not give Snape the satisfaction, but on the other hand, it had been Snape who had asked the doctor to sedate Harry before the procedure. Doctor Green had felt that it would not be wise to sedate Harry without the breathing apparatus, so Snape had just narrowed his eyes and aimed the needle between Harry's ribs and gotten it over with. Harry had endured the second injection, head turned to the side, hands clenching the white linens in agony, and still, he would not let himself cry out for Snape to hear.

Since Snape's last injection, Harry had begun to feel comfortably drowsy. Ironically, now that the painful injection was over with, and after Harry's vital signs returned to near normal, Snape suggested some pain medication for him, and Harry could hear them discussing the fact that Ron had accidentally of course, re broken his ribs in trying to save his life. Now Harry felt warm, and not having to deal with the tubes down his throat, allowed him to relax, at least physically. He fell asleep worrying about Ron and all the Weaslys. He could vaguely feel and hear the doctor resetting his ribs again, but the medicine was doing it's trick.

It was disconcerting falling asleep with Professor Snape standing over him. He hadn't taken up his usual position of standing just outside Harry's door. To Ron and Hermione's complete dismay, they were not allowed back in Harry's room for the rest of this day and night, and they would have to check at the desk, to find out if they were allowed in tomorrow as well.

"But we just wanted to..." Ron began to argue.

"I'm sorry Ron, Doctor Green feels it best that Harry is not disturbed. Let him sleep. You heal more during sleep you know." Stephanie told them gently. She seemed to want to talk. "Who took out Harry's ventilator?" They looked at one another, deciding to trust her, since Percy's boss would be arriving soon to ask some questions.

It was so difficult, filling in a muggle on all the particulars of life as a witch or wizard, especially when that wizard was Harry Potter. They gave an extremely abbreviated version of Harry's life from beginning to it's near conclusion on several occasions. Having met Harry, presented as a normal person, not a wizard, had given Stephanie a unique perspective of him that Ron and Hermione had never known. Now they heard about Max, Harry's dog for the first time, and they realized how lonely life in Privet Drive must have been. They'd always known, but they had never pictured Harry the muggle out in town.

Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing looks as Stephanie described Max to them, so similar to Sirius. Not wanting to overload Stephanie in one night, they did let her know that Harry's Godfather had been killed recently. They left out the animagus form that Sirius always took, not knowing that her son Tyler had just started studying animagi, since he had been invited to attend Hogwarts with a special interest on Harry's behalf.

Sitting there talking about Harry's life up until the present, it dawned on them how profoundly filled with loss and sorrow it had always been, and yet Harry seemed so strong. No one could blame him for breaking down in his present state, but now they had come to think about it, no one had ever seen Harry cry, not about his parents, not about Sirius. They wondered if they hadn't been supportive enough. Harry had always just shown his pain in silence, and Ron and Hermione had always just ridden it out with him, not prying, not knowing what to say. They thought of all the sortings they had seen, looking at all the first years. They seemed so small and young now, and Ron could picture Harry, sitting on the stool, waiting to be sorted, looking terrified, but keeping it in check all the same. His mind went back to when he had first met Harry. Ron, now seeing things from this older perspective, couldn't believe how brave Harry had always been, but than Harry had no choice.

Ron had always known that the Dursleys were not treating Harry well, to put it mildly. Harry had never talked about it to him, or any other parts of his childhood, and he'd never asked. It seemed strange even as Harry's best friend, to think of the famous Harry Potter as a part time muggle. The Weasleys had always taken him in whenever they could, but in the good feeling of being his rescuers, no one had ever really remembered the month of loneliness and isolation Harry had already endured to reach this point. No wonder Max the black dog had made such a strong impression on Harry. No wonder Hedwig, his owl, was such a comfort to him. Hedwig had been Harry's only friend during his long isolation at the Dursleys. Now Ron was more determined to find Hedwig than ever, and since they weren't allowed back into Harry's room., they bid Stephanie goodnight and started up the corridor to leave.

"Hermione, do you think Harry'll be alright?" Ron questioned.

"Well, yeah, now he's breathing on his own," she began.

"Nah, that's not what I mean," he interrupted.

"Oh." Hermione had caught on at once, because she too had secret misgivings about how much more poor Harry could take physically or emotionally.

"We'll look after him the best we can...we pledged it on our lives to the Order," Hermione reminded him. They had been old enough to make the official pledge to the Order, to lay down their lives for Harry, knowing that they had been prepared to do this, pledge or not since they had all become friends. They had promised not to tell Harry that they had made their pledge for his protection to death official at a ceremony at the headquarters shortly after his encounter with Voldemort. They agreed that if Harry ever found out, he would never allow it. They may not have been allowed to officially join the Order, but the pledge they had made at headquarters, had been taken seriously and without reservation.

"All in all, Hermione, we've seen Harry take his lumps before, but seeing him here..." Ron said candidly. He paused, glancing at Harry's door, as though afraid of being seen, "But it never really dawned on me. I hate admit it, but I guess I've always seen Harry as almost invincible, especially after the tri wizard tournament, but he's just like us, flesh and blood. All along, he's just been a kid like us." Ron had been awed by the fact that Harry had been facing the prospect of having to fulfill the prophecy of having to kill Voldemort or being killed by him, all alone all this time. Dumbledore had told Ron and Hermione out of concern for Harry, about the prophecy Harry had vowed he would never divulge to his friends. Harry had felt it too risky to involve them further in his fight against the dark lord. Harry would no doubt be angry when he found out they knew, but they, and the Headmaster would cross that bridge once Harry was sound physically at least.

As they approached the exit, they realized that they had forgotten all about Tonks, who'd been sent to guard duty on the outside perimeter since Percy's attack on Harry. Tonks had been originally there to relieve Snape, but now as her shift ended, Snape began the last part of a self imposed triple shift. No wonder he looked so tired and miserable, more so than usual if possible.

Harry awoke several times that night, unable to swallow and uncomfortable. His lips had been made so dry by his ordeal that they had cracked open. He opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of his skin, not remembering that Professor Snape had stayed in his room tonight.

"What is it Potter?" the potions master asked, leaning forward wearily, as Harry looked past him to find no mediwizard present. The dark lines stood out vividly under Snape's eyes against his usual pallor.

Harry surprised even himself. He still had some of his old defiance left in him after all. "Noth...nothing," he rasped, throat burning.

"I could give you something to ease your throat, Potter," Snape offered temptingly. All Harry could picture was another huge needle, which would be worse by far than anything he was suffering now. Harry didn't want his kind of help anymore. If it hadn't been for Professor Dumbledore's arrival in those woods, he would have no life, let alone limbs right now. Harry's pain was considerable, so he was torn when thinking back to when Snape had syphoned off some of his pain in the woods, letting him hang on longer. He wondered why Snape had done this, when he had been just about to give up and why had he again saved him with potion, albeit a painful one? And finally, 'Why does he hate me so much? It can't be just because of who my father was.'

Harry wanted to vehemently deny Snape's offer, which had been give without malice or taunt to Harry's great disbelief. Harry now knew that Snape had been given permission to administer medicinal potions at his discretion, because he hadn't consulted a mediwizard. Harry hadn't wanted to have to beg Snape for pain relief, so although he was indignant when ordered to open his mouth, he could take an order, but grovelling would have been a different subject. There was also the fact that Professor Snape was so exhausted, he didn't seem to care that he was coming across as a kind apothecary or some such.

Snape illuminated Harry's mouth and throat with his wand, after gently removing the oxygen mask from his face. Although he'd been gentle in doing so, Harry now could feel the pain from where his jaw had been broken the night of the storms. He winced when Snape grasped his chin. Snape drew a leather pouch containing a vial from his cloak. Before Harry knew what was happening, Snape had poured the entire contents into his mouth. This was no muggle remedy. The effect was instantaneous. As Snape replaced the mask snugly on Harry's face, he felt the pain ebb from his chest, legs jaw and everywhere else for that matter. Had Snape just slipped him a magical pain relieving potion? he wondered gratefully.

"This won't do," Snape said, contemplating calling someone to clean Harry up, than looking like he'd made his mind up, he made a wash cloth fly into his hand, wet it with warm water, and to Harry's complete surprise and humiliation, Snape once again lifted the mask and gently washed away the dried blood and tear streaks from his face. Harry hadn't really noticed how uncomfortable this had been, given his extreme pain before, but now having been cleaned up, he felt so much better. Snape carelessly threw the cloth into the sink and said, "Rest now, Potter." He sat down now and began to read a very thick volume on a subject Harry couldn't make out from his point. He now knew that a sleeping draft had been added to the potion he'd just received, and as he was succumbing to it's effects, Harry realized what a powerful wizard Snape must be. He could not, and probably never would figure out this man, who had even thought to scourgify his hospital gown so he would be more comfortable, or maybe just so Harry wouldn't bother him to do it later.

When Ron, Hermione and Tonks, stepped out into muggle London, just outside the entrance to St. Mungos, a sight greeted their eyes that they couldn't believe. There, curled up in the muggle side of the doorway to St. Mungos, was Hedwig. Her white feathers were barely visible through all the soot and dirt, which covered her. She'd clearly been battered around by someone. Dried streaks of blood crusted on the edges of her tightly tucked wings.

'Hedwig!" Hermione yelled, concerned, but jubilant. She attempted to pick up Hedwig, but she was strangely heavy, despite her almost skeletal appearance. Hedwig had been carrying a great package in her talons and beak, which was tightly bound in twine. The address on the package read, Mr. Harry Potter, St. Mungos Hospital For Magical Maladies And Afflictions, muggle accommodation wing, floor three, room... the only one on floor three! The very specific address, affirmed now, that Harry was no longer safe in hiding at St. Mungos.

Hermione prodded Hedwig to let her take the package, but Hedwig nipped at her. "Hedwig, it's me, Hermione. I'll see to it that Harry gets his parcel. We've got to get you some help," she soothed, but when she reached for Harry's owl, Hedwig took to clumsy flight, right up to where floor three would be on the other side. She flapped gracelessly to the ground and huddled up once more in the doorway to St. Mungos.

"Come on Hedwig, it's me Ron. You've stayed at my house with Harry." Hedwig fixed her large amber eyes on Ron, reflecting the streetlights above. Her head cocked to one side, and she finally let Ron and Hermione pick her up, but she refused to let go of her parcel. "Hedwig, Harry's asleep right now. He's hurt. Now just give me the parcel and I'll see to it that Harry gets it first thing in the morning, I promise." Still Hedwig hung on, but now she rocked back and forth on his arm, eyes closed and weak.

"What are we going to do? They won't let us in until tomorrow, and that's a maybe." Hermione was very worried.

"Well, that Stephanie person is a veteran." Ron suggested

"Vet-er-in-arian, Ron," Hermione corrected him. "Yes and from what Professor Dumbledore told us, her son Tyler has some sort of healing influence on animals as well."

"Yeah, but we could take her to Diagon Alley and they'd have her fixed up in a couple of minutes, than she won't end up...like Harry." Ron glanced up at the third floor.

"I'd agree with you, Ron," Tonks cut in, striding up to them after having finishing her first outdoor perimeter check, "but I don't think Hedwig's going to leave St. Mungos without a fight, and by the looks of things, I don't she has much fight left in her."

They turned around to re-enter St. Mungos. No one seemed to notice or care that they had an animal with them. It seemed odd to Hermione, raised as a muggle as she had been. Animals had always been strictly forbidden in muggle hospitals, but the wizarding community had learned long ago, that as long as the animal was well behaved and polite, they could speed their master's recovery. Now they looked around, noticing for the first time, other owls, cats, and a variety of other pets lounging around. They found Stephanie in the tea room, and she examined Hedwig, who would still not let the package go out of her beak.

"I don't think she's really damaged, just very dehydrated and fatigued. A few minor wounds to the outside of her wings, but nothing broken. She needs a bath and some rest, and some liquids, given slowly at first."

"Allow me," stepped in Tonks, raising her wand. "Hydrodgenoxygen Permeatus!" Tonks has summoned the elements of water to clean Hedwig, who now stood, clean but dripping wet on the chair in the tearoom. Tonks had managed to drench the rest of the group as well. "Oh, sorry," she blushed. "A little over enthusiastic perhaps. Right than, "Vente Quill!" Hedwig was dry instantly, leaving everyone else to towel off on paper towels.

Ron brought Hedwig some water, which she nearly leapt into, until she remembered the package and flapped back to it without drinking a drop.

"Hold it up to her beak," Stephanie suggested. Hedwig drank furiously fast, while standing on the package protectively. Hedwig still looked very ruffled and weak, but somewhat better. She seemed placid for a moment after the drink, when she suddenly opened her eyes wide with a renewed sense of purpose and flew out of the tearoom to everyone's complete surprise. They all stopped abruptly when the chase was finished with Hedwig crashing noisily into Harry's door.

Professor Snape appeared instantly, wand raised, looking ready for battle. He glared at them furiously. "What is the meaning of this intrusion.." He would have continued, but his eyes followed Ron's pointed finger to see Hedwig slip into the room past him. As if fearing an attack on Harry's life, Snape raised his wand.

"Professor Snape, Please no! It's Harry's owl, Hedwig. We couldn't stop her," Hermione pleaded.

Snape lowered his wand wearily. He looked like he would have regretted what he'd been about to do. "No visitors without clearance, including owls, you know this. She could have been a spy." He seemed relieved that she had been positively identified, as everyone silently agreed that Professor Snape did not look up to a confrontation. He was beginning to look like he belonged at St. Mungos himself as a patient, certainly not security. He sat heavily into the chair next to the window, facing the door where they all stood, Hedwig had landed on Harry's left arm. Harry did not stir. She climbed up to his chest to stare into his face, and gave a small hooting sound, at which point Snape shoved her off to wait at the foot of Harry's bed. Hedwig knew that something was wrong with Harry. He had always woken up when she had made a noise. She sulked even more heavily, when upon nipping Harry's toe through the blanket, he did not stir.

"Hedwig, don't bite him, he'll be alright soon," Hermione tried to convince the frazzled owl, when she had been unable to completely convince herself of this.

"Alright, all of you out, and I suggest you seek the Headmaster's permission for this animal's continued presence here. I will give temporary permission for her to stay the night." Hedwig finally accepted that Harry was asleep and closed her own eyes as well, package still gripped tightly in her talons. "Also, there is the package. It has not been cleared . I will permit it to remain here and put a vault charm on it, and you," he eyed Ron and Hermione, " will obtain permission for your friend to open it without inspection, otherwise it will be some time before it will clear inspections." He shut the door on them, without even waiting to hear Hedwig's care instructions.


	11. Empty Houses

At six o'clock in the morning, Harry awoke to see Snape, back to, talking softly to something he could not see. It was the same voice he'd used for a short time in the woods with Harry, when he was sure Harry was dying. Harry closed his eyes when Snape pivoted around to reach something. He reopened them when Snape turned his back on him again. He had drawn another vial from his cloak and had used an eyedropper to extract a small amount of the vial's contents.

"There now, that's better, isn't it?" This hadn't been merely a query, but more like a naturally assumed conclusion to whatever Shape had just done. Harry distinctly heard a loud hoot and flapping, Now he didn't bother to feign sleep. He felt he was dreaming again when a large white bird fluttered clumsily onto his bed. The grey dawn did not provide much light to Harry's room, but there could be no mistaking his beloved owl.

"Hedwig!" Harry rasped beneath his mask. "Hedwig, where have you been?" For the first time, Harry's eyes were filled with joy, not sorrow and pain. "Oh girl, you look how I feel," Harry's voice was whispered and strained, but he forced it.

Snape did not offer any information or advice. He merely stated, "Rest that voice, Potter, or you'll scar your vocal cords." Hedwig nuzzled under Harry's chin. Harry couldn't help but smile, even though, with the broken jaw, it hurt to do so. He raised his hand to touch his jaw, and than to pet Hedwig affectionately. This done, Hedwig could forget her mission no longer. She picked up her burden and dropped it heavily onto Harry's chest. "Ouch!" Harry exclaimed, rather more loudly than he'd thought possible. Hedwig, realizing her mistake, stepped gently off his chest onto the side of the bed. "Thanks, girl." Harry said, as his throat dried up.

"You have the Headmaster's permission to open your package, Potter." Snape had received an officially stamped letter from Dumbledore a mere two hours after sending enquiry on the subject. Snape lit some lanterns on the wall with his wand and Hedwig snipped the twine with her beak. There was no return address, but Harry's heart leapt into his throat when he read the heading of some official looking document. The parchment read, 'Last will and Testament of Sirius Black.' Harry's head swam. He had not expected this, nor was he in any way prepared to deal with it. Somehow it seemed to weigh a heavy acceptance that Sirius was really gone. Harry hoped this time would never come. When he would have to face it...really face that Sirius was gone.

Harry did not want Snape knowing his business, but now it seemed almost pointless to try to hide anything from him. There were so many papers, and Harry couldn't hold his arms up for long in this position. He hated to ask, but he checked his pride. "P Professor?" He was barely audible. "Would you?" Harry felt he could not wait to find out what was in those papers, although he knew he should wait for someone he knew to read it to him. He had longed to hear anything from Sirius, even this final, painful reminder of Sirius' death. Harry now thought about how much pain he was going through with his injuries, and he now suddenly wondered if Sirius' death had been an instant one. If he could just know that Sirius had died instantly without pain, he could have at least taken comfort in that one small thing.

"Are you certain you wouldn't prefer..." Snape suggested wearily.

"No, please," Harry was so tense, it sounded more like a hiss.

"Very well...I, Sirius Black, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly belongings to my Godson, Harry James Potter upon my death by nature or act of malice." Snape read this like a lawyer who'd never met Sirius before. "There's a lot, Potter, shall I go on?"

"Yes," Harry mouthed, for no sound would come out, The list ended with Grimauld Place. "NO!" Harry wheezed, turning his head away from Snape's view. "I was supposed to live with you, Sirius, not...not alone." Harry thought desperately to himself. The most profound silence and isolation filled Harry's entire being, threatening to swallow him up, and for the first time Harry wondered what was he, Harry Potter, going to get as reward for defeating the Dark Lord Voldemort? The world, Harry figured out, would get peace and freedom and joy, and he, the young tragic martyr, would get torn to pieces, left with the inheritances of all his dead loved ones to live alone in an empty house! Now he wished he had flown away, and not listened to Hermione and Ron's voice call him back. Thinking of Ron and Hermione, he supposed that maybe they could be left happy if the Dark Lord was defeated, so just as they'd pledged their lives, unbeknownst to him, he now pledged his life to them secretly. Hoping that they at least may have a shot if they survived, gave him something to live for, though while thinking of Ron and Hermione having a life, Harry pictured himself alone if he should somehow survive. Briefly, Ginny had come to his mind, but if he survived at all, he didn't know if he could live with himself after having killed someone, even Voldemort, let alone if any girl would accept him.

"There is something else here, Potter, dated July the thirty first." Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He opened the parcel and examined the contents closely. He pulled out a long gold chain, and Harry saw a pocket watch emerge on the end of it. On closer inspection, he saw a relief of a Griffin, raised up on it's rear legs. Snape unfolded a richly embossed birthday card. "To my Godson, on his Sixteenth birthday." Snape gave the card to Harry, who turned it over and over in his fingers. Harry read the inscription on the watch, 'To Harry, Love Mom and Dad." Harry didn't understand, and Snape quickly read on as Harry's stomach flipped. "Dearest Godson, this letter was left in my possession, that I should give it to you on your sixteenth birthday, just as your father James received it on his sixteenth birthday, and so on back into your lineage. I was to see to it that you got it should something happen to..."

Harry looked sickly confused. "Sirius must have wrapped this package up sometime before his death," Snape reasoned as he read on. "Harry, the pendent in the package is from me. Wear it always. The amulet that hangs from the chain is somewhat protective. I made it myself." The amulet glowed red as Harry's hand touched it. Snape pulled back his hand in agony as Harry reached out to take it from his grasp. Harry saw a angry red mark form on Snape's outstretched hand. He had seen Professor Snape grasp his forearm in similar pain years ago when he had revealed himself as a former servant of Voldemort...a death eater. Voldemort had marked all of his servants to feel the mark on their forearms burn at his summons and apparate at his side to do his bidding at once.

Snape looked shocked, but stopped wincing when he saw Harry looking at him in a whole new light. Again, this event, brought to the surface all of the misgivings Harry had about Dumbledore's trust in the defection of Snape from Voldemort, to the service of Hogwarts and especially to the Order Of The Phoenix, which was led by Dumbledore, the only wizard to strike fear into the Dark Lord.

"I'm afraid I must take that pendent to the headmaster, Mr. Potter. It must be screened for dangerous curses and the like." Snape was clearly making this up as he went along. Harry did not want to relinquish Sirius's gift. He needed protection now more than ever before.

"NO! It's mine. There was nothing wrong with my Firebolt and there's nothing wrong with this!" Harry was struggling with Snape for the amulet. With the pain from touching it that Snape was enduring, it was almost a fair fight, even with Harry so weak.

"I WILL NOT LET YOU INJURE YOURSELF FURTHER, MR POTTER. YOU WILL LET GO OF THE AMULET!" Snape's voice was steady and cold, despite his obvious discomfort. Harry knew all too well that he meant what he said.

"It's mine! Get off!" Harry was wheezing badly and his monitors were sure to attract attention any time now.

"DORMIEN TRANQILI!" Snape had hit him squarely in the chest. Harry's grip let go and he sunk out of Snape's hands. The monitors returned to normal at once, and Harry's chest rose and fell gently as in one who is comfortable, without a care in the world. Harry's last thought was, why hadn't Hedwig helped him?

Harry awoke to see a dim, bearded figure, sitting next to his bedside. The figure stood to tower over him, and Harry was jolted into full awareness, with fright. He felt his glasses being fitted onto his face. He gazed into the serene face of his headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.

Harry began to speak very fast, as fast as his throat would allow. "Professor Snape, Sir...Sirius left me...Snape took..." Harry was so frantic to get his point out, he was making no sense at all.

"Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore corrected him calmly.

"He stole my pendent, sir." Harry couldn't talk anymore. It was too painful, and with Professor Dumbledore's staunch unspoken defence of Snape's actions the previous night, Harry guessed that going on was pointless anyhow.

"It is not pointless, Harry. It is never pointless to express your opinion , no matter how wrong you may be." Dumbledore looked at Harry as if he was transparent. "Yes, I heard you, but I do not make it a habit to pry on people's innermost thoughts, nor could I do so, save only with you and a very rare few who have studied occlumency, and of course , the clairvoyants."

"So...so you can hear me?" This was just like the dream Harry had had on the operating table, when Dumbledore had encouraged him to fight for his life.

"Yes, Harry, I can hear you, if you wish it."

"Professor Dumbledore, Snape took my gifts, my birthday gifts...from Sirius.."

"No, Harry, the amulet is here," Dumbledore put his wrinkled hand on Harry's chest. There, under the hospital gown, was Harry's new pendent, safely clasped around his neck. Snape, unlike Dumbledore could freely touch the amulet, without consequence. When he did, Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest all around the amulet. This one difference, clinched it for Harry. He thought, like he was really speaking. "Professor Dumbledore, what happened? It didn't burn you?"

"Harry, you see how the amulet is held in it's setting by these two bits of black iron at the top and bottom?"

"Yes." Harry looked at the pendent for the first time as an object, not just as something having treasure status because of whom it had come from. He tried hard to look at it objectively as he had been instructed.

"Those two pieces of iron are the very same ones which came from the cursed branding iron used by Voldemort to brand his followers, the deatheaters. A burn that would never heal, which would summon his chosen servants to apparate at his side, upon feeling the pain from the brand renewed in full."

Harry was horrified, wondering what on earth Sirius could have been thinking to send him such an item. He rasped desperately, "Get it off me!" and tried to yank it from his neck.

"You needn't fear it, Harry." It was Professor Snape's exhaustion and surprise which caught him so thoroughly off his guard. He has come to me for an intense session of occlumency and I'm sure when he is rested, he will be immune to it's effects."

"I know he feels the calls, Professor. I've seen him bite the inside of his cheek, holding his arm, pretending he doesn't feel his master's call."

"Yes Harry, you are correct. Professor Snape is a marked man in more ways than one. He will feel that pain at every summons, just as you feel the pain in your scar through Voldemort's strong emotions. Professor Snape will feel that pain for the rest of his life, or until Voldemort is defeated. He comes to me for further occlumency lessons to learn to block out the pain and irresistible force he feels when summoned."

"He feels?" Harry laughed inside despite himself, forgetting that Dumbledore could still hear him.

"Yes Harry, he feels. I will not at this time trouble you with an explanation, but Professor Snape did not steal your pendent , rather, he brought it to me for inspection. He was honest, and revealed to me what happened when he touched the pendent while it was touching your skin. He knew exactly the designs holding your pendent, for they are burned into his flesh."

"Professor, you know he's a Deatheater. I called him one in the woods when he wouldn't help me and he didn't even deny it!"

"Harry," Dumbledore said firmly, but with a kind tone, "was a Deatheater–was a Deatheater. He is human, Harry. I believe he was unable to extract you from under that tree. I myself almost lost you raising that log from your legs. If Professor Snape had not stabilized your condition, you would have died before we could reach you. This was the one and only truth Harry could accept.

"Professor Dumbledore, I don't mean to be bold or undermine you, but Snape served Voldemort, who wants me dead. He's never liked me. He's never tried to give me the upper hand, when he should have inside information, loads of it."

"That is where you are wrong, my young friend. Professor Snape must have served you better than you'd thanked him for. If it wasn't for his lessons to you in occlumency last year, we could not speak as we are doing now, mind to mind. Now Harry, try to read my mind." Harry tried, but it felt like he'd run full speed into a vault door at Gringott's. "I trust you did not meet such resistance with Professor Snape?"

"No...I saw him...as a ...as a young child..." Harry felt embarrassed to go on, even on Snape's behalf.

"That I saw as well. There are things even deeper he cannot hide. That is why I was reluctant to put him through teaching you occlumency. It is hard to respect those you have seen at their most frightened, their most vulnerable, and I will tell you this, to bear the current burden Professor Snape bears has been the death of many wizards stronger than himself. I have seen further into the depths of his soul than I think he will ever let anyone see ever again, and it is what keeps him alone. He cannot share his burden. The prophecy in which you have seen unfolding started long before you can remember. You have, no doubt learned that many joined Voldemort's ranks of their own free accord, while others were coerced or downright forced. You would guess that Professor Snape joined Voldemort of his own free will?"

"Yes...Of course." Harry stated the obvious.

"And I would tell you that are indeed correct."

"I knew it!" Harry was triumphant.

"Yes Harry, but he was under extreme duress. I do not believe that a man should go against his principals for any reason, but sometimes, when we are very young, we make rash decisions. I have given Professor Snape a second chance, because he tried to leave Voldemort before he had to kill in his name, before Voldemort's downfall...Severus Snape came back when he knew that it meant a certain death sentence for him to do so, for his master was at full power and was reigning with an iron fist. Many died in their attempt to leave," Professor Dumbledore remembered sadly. "Professor Snape is not against you, Harry, but if he cannot separate himself from his past in his mind as well as his body, he will perish if you are the victor in the prophecy. He has separated himself from Voldemort, but with the dark mark he bears on his arm, he cannot merely resign his servitude. He is linked, like it or not, to Voldemort himself and all the others like him. We have tried, Nicholas Flammel and myself and even top healers to remove the forged curse from his arm, and alas we were unsuccessful."

"Professor Snape is a dead man walking, Harry. If you defeat the dark lord, he will die with him. You see, Voldemort , basking in his supremacy, studied the ancient Egyptian Kings, who believed in the afterlife, where they would need their worldly possessions and servants with them. When an ancient king left this world, many innocent victims were slaughtered to do their master's bidding in the afterlife, while others slew themselves gladly to go on in servitude in the other side. The mark that Professor Snape bears is like an hourglass, Harry. If you win, Snape dies. If Voldemort wins...he will be killed as a traitor, for it will be revealed to Voldemort than where his loyalties have gone astray. Either way, Harry, if we cannot make Professor Snape's occlumency stronger and find a way to remove the dark mark from his body, he is doomed. All branded deatheaters share this burden. That is why most of them have returned to his side."

"Is it too simplistic to suggest the removal of his arm, Professor? After all, the decision to hack off my legs was made in about thirty seconds in the middle of nowhere," Harry said bitterly, but thankfully that the task had not been carried out.

"You are very understandably, a bitter young man, but yes we had considered that. It has been revealed to us that the poison inflicted through this cruel brand, courses through his very veins. Not even had he hacked his arm off the moment it had touched his skin, would it have been any less effective. Professor Snape has chosen to serve the greater good Harry, and the sooner you accept this the better. No one can force their beliefs on you, but the evidence before you far outweighs the gossip, and I hope you will avail yourself of the truth.

After exhausting all the 'for' and 'against' arguments regarding Professor Snape, Harry gave up, but not in, and he changed the subject. "Professor, Sirius left me..." He wanted to say everything, but he felt he had nothing without Sirius.

"I am aware of the will, Harry. I witnessed it myself. Did you not know?"

"When?" Harry had hoped beyond all hope that Dumbledore was hiding that fact that Sirius was alive, and that he would slip up and give a date which would just happen to be after Sirius's death date, for Harry still could not accept his godfather's death.

"I am very sorry, Harry, but yes, it was before he was killed at Ministry Of Magic." Dumbledore had of course heard Harry's hopeful query, though Harry had tried to hide it."

"I...I know," Harry heaved. Hearing someone give their condolences for the very first time, made his eyes well up with tears again. "Oh, what is wrong with me?" Harry moaned to himself. "If I can't master myself, I'm going to be tormented as a blubbering idiot when I get back to school. Stop it!" he warned himself, as he wiped away any remaining tears and tried to get a deep breath.

"Harry if you do not let out the sorrow inside yourself, it will swell inside you, slowing your recovery. You can let it out and still remain sad, but if you do not spill some of the grief, than there will be no room for joy and learning. I am in no way suggesting that you succumb to every disappointment in life. Strength is a virtue indeed, but so to , is showing one's humanity. You keep wondering every time you fall apart , if you will ever be able to put yourself back together. My answer to you is this. You speak of empty houses and sole inheritances. To some, this wealth would be beyond their wildest dreams, for Sirius was a wealthy man, Harry, but his most treasured possession, was his belief that you and he would be reunited. All you are left with is a memory of him, but someday, when your grief is not so near, the memory of his love and the love of your parents, will sustain you. For you were, and are, rich in love. Many men have pledged their very lives in your quest. Sirius's riches do not interest you, so take comfort in the one thing he gave you that he did not inherit from his family, his love for you."

Harry had his eyes closed as he abbreviated Dumbledore's long speech into a short one. In essence, mourn your losses, but take comfort in those who still love you and the memories of those who did love you. He thought of Hermione and all the Weaslys, his mind lingering on Ginny for reasons he couldn't even explain to himself at this point. Perhaps because she too had suffered cruelly at the hands of Voldemort, but Harry wondered if it was something more, as he had physically felt his shoulders relax somewhat just thinking about the petite red head. Than he suddenly thought of Hagrid's rambling. He'd been asleep, waking only when he heard Hagrid blowing his nose. The Giant had been crying. Harry remembered the painful inflections in Hagrid's voice when after all these years, he had finally voiced his love for him. Hagrid, had of course loved Harry from the moment he had picked him from his ruined home, and the feeling had always been mutual, but never spoken until the night when Harry lay between life and death. Hagrid had feared that he would never get the chance to tell Harry how he felt again, if he didn't take it that morning.

There was so much to ask. Harry was glad of Dumbledore's apparently limitless patience for his questions, after all, he hadn't truly spoken to anyone since the attack on his life. Thinking of Hagrid, it dawned heavily upon Harry, that the second time in his life he could ever remember anyone telling him that they loved him, was also by a person who had consumed too much alcohol. Harry's heart was not so jaded as to dismiss Hagrid's true emotions, for they were sincere and Harry had always known it. Aunt Petunia's proclamation of love on the other hand, just made Harry's skin crawl.

Harry now remembered nothing of Hagrid's sudden departure from St. Mungos. All of the medication and pain and the further attack on his life, had quite distracted him from what would normally have been a huge deal. Now , he remembered Hagrid's umbrella and he had a mental flashback of raising it against Percy. The fact that he'd almost died after the incident, had caused the memory lapse. He thought hard, trying to remember a visit from his giant friend.

"Professor Dumbledore, is Hagrid alright? He's never left his wa- umbrella behind before," Harry corrected, too late.

"We have known about Hagrid's umbrella's -er—unusual magical tendencies for some time. We agreed at the school at the time Hagrid was expelled, that we would let him keep the broken fragments from his wand. If we pretended not to know about it we felt Hagrid would use it sparingly and carefully , so as not to get caught by anyone from the Ministry. Harry felt relieved that Dumbledore knew about Hagrid's wand, since it had been very obvious. With so much riding on Dumbledore's competence, to miss Hagrid's umbrella would have made Harry very leery about most of his other decisions that concerned his very life. "We felt that, being a giant, Hagrid would be teased and provoked by some of our more unruly students, and we felt he would need some protection. Also, as grounds keeper, so near the dark forest..."

Harry looked up at the ceiling, picturing a young Hagrid, uneducated and turned out of the castle to live by himself in the tiny hut at the edge of the forbidden forest. A lonely life, Harry decided, Hardly better than his own, except Hagrid wasn't hassled by the Dursleys every day of his life. He still couldn't remember having seen Hagrid lately, and it troubled him greatly.

"Hagrid has had some very difficult decisions to make. We have sat down together and Hagrid has finally agreed to take the teaching standards tests to determine if he is fit to teach under the new guideline for safety and security at our fine establishment. You will now be addressing your old friend as Professor Hagrid officially," Dumbledore informed Harry proudly.

This was it. Dumbledore had touched a nerve, a subject so painful, Harry tried desperately to hide his feelings from the old wizard. Harry had no family, and besides , he hadn't even received his Hogwarts letter yet, he realized with another pang of sadness. As if in answer to Harry's sudden alarm, Dumbledore retrieved some parchment from his robes. "I have waited until I could bring it to you personally, Harry." Harry gratefully accepted the familiar looking envelope, which Ron and Hermione had received some time ago, with relief. It was much more extensive than usual.

Number one, Harry was not to report to the boys dormitories in Griffindor tower as usual, but there it was, his expected return to Hogwarts date, September the first as usual. Harry's heart leapt and for the first time, he forgot his pain and worry.

"I'm...I'm coming home?...I mean to Hogwarts?" Harry looked to Professor Dumbledore for confirmation, and when Dumbledore smiled back his affirmation, Harry felt his lost feeling of closeness to the old man, return to him in full, like a beloved grandfather.

"Professor Dumbledore...but how?..." Harry queried, indicating the casts on his legs and other obvious obstacles. An unrealistic part of him half hoped that at that moment, Dumbledore would raise his wand and the casts would disappear and he would be healed completely, but even the fact that this did not happen, could not dampen his new high spirits, though he was now somewhat puzzled. Even he knew that without magical intervention, he could not return to school in this condition.

"Yes Harry, we have considered all of this. Your muggle doctors feel that you would be better served here at St. Mungos until your recovery has progressed further. With all due respect to these fine people, they do not understand fully the security concerns your presence here causes. We have therefore, met with the mediwizards to devise a plan for your safe return to Hogwarts for the start of the school year. You have your friend, Miss Granger's quick book references to thank for that. She suggested that we send Madame Pomfrey some muggle medicine advanced medical books, kindly provided by Doctor Green. Poppy is a remarkable healer. She could have been head mediwizard here at St. Mungos," Dumbledore said with admiration, and going very much off topic, as he was famous for. She has agreed to study the manual, and barring any major complications, you will return to Hogwarts on schedule."

"To the hospital wing...my second home," Harry said dejectedly. He'd spent more time in Hogwarts Hospital Wing, than anyone he had ever known. Madame Pomfrey had a medical file on Harry that took up an entire drawer in the filing cases. Neville had been a close second, but even he had never taken up residency there formally. Than there was the fussing Madame Pomfrey was famous for. Harry knew he'd find it hard to endure it, but than with her zeal for healing, Harry hoped that she would be able to mend him more quickly than anyone felt possible, after all, praise from Dumbledore of that magnitude was not lightly taken, and she could, in Harry's experience, cure almost anything.

Harry was torn between relief and embarrassment upon finding out that Stephanie would have an extended hand in his care. She was a veterinarian, and Harry cringed at the thought that Malfoy would get this information. He could picture Draco Malfoy barking at him, or some other barrage of insults, and hoped that no one else would ever find out he had been treated by an animal doctor. For his private part, he felt in very good hands, after all Stephanie was a superb doctor when it came right down to it. Besides, animal doctors had to have something even people doctors didn't. An animal couldn't tell you where it hurts, and nor could he when they'd first brought him in. It was she who had figured out what had been wrong with him.

Harry had so much to ask, that subjects changed quicky, with Harry catching up on all that had taken place recently. Dumbledore had asked him if he remembered Tyler, Stephanie's son, and it all came flooding back to Harry. Tyler's attention to him in the woods, and the little boy's treatment of him as though he was one of his patients at the clinic.

"Professor Dumbledore, Tyler, he's an animal healer of some sort, and he said I had the heart of a lion, and I don't think he meant courage." Harry remembered Tyler's self doubt as he had heard him telling Professor Snape not to take the log off his legs. "He said he couldn't heal humans, but I think I heard him calling me back, like I hear you now. When he touched me, it was like he was reading me." Dumbledore looked at Harry significantly, as though he were affirming Harry's suspicion. "Is he a wizard, sir?" Harry asked, still trying to remember and looking at his hand, which should have been left with a nasty scar from the broken window at Privet Drive. Tyler had bound it and after that Harry had fallen into a comfortable sleep, against his will. He hadn't realized in all the ensuing confusion that his hand didn't hurt at all after he had woken up.

"No indeed Harry. In fact, it is this very subject that I am most anxious to discuss with you when you are well. Tyler, however, has been invited, and has accepted an opportunity for education at Hogwarts, for a period of time not yet decided. He will be specializing in potions, and he will be joining you in your occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. You will begin these private lessons on your first term class schedule. Harry, now looking at his schedule for the first time, noticed that this was the only subject on his timetable. He was assured that his subject schedule would fill according to his progress in healing.

Harry's initial enthusiasm, at returning to Hogwarts, was now mixed with matching amounts of dread. Professor Dumbledore, sensing this, cheered Harry up by telling him, that although Madame Pomfrey usually did not allow animals in the hospital wing, she had agreed to an exception to allow Hedwig to stay with Harry in his confinement, until such a time as he could safely return to the sixth year boys dorms.

"And when may that be?" Harry asked enthusiastically.

"One step at a time. Let us at least get you back on your feet, but as it is you we are talking about, I've no doubt that you will put your all into your recovery. There is more to you than meets the eye, Harry." And with these curiosity invoking comments, Dumbledore stood to leave. He took both of Harry's hands in his and held him a long gaze over his square spectacles. It felt to Harry like an appraisal, and his suspicions were correct. "You are looking better Harry, and I must admit, even I had my doubts, but your aura has changed for the better. I believe you have jumped the hurdle and are now on the mend."

Professor Dumbledore's visit had been healing, and without any forewarning, he announced, matter of factly, "Now I believe you have visitors. I will leave you young ones alone." How Dumbledore could possibly have known that Harry had visitors, Harry could not guess, though he always knew there was more to this old man than met the eye. It was a full three minutes before any visual or audible announcement of new arrivals came, yet Dumbledore had somehow perceived their arrival. "I will leave Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to fill you in on your accommodation details." Harry thought he'd heard all the details. "Remember, Harry, you must allow yourself rest and time. No shame or guilt need be felt for letting yourself grieve." With a pop, Dumbledore apparated with a wink at Harry and his friends, who had just entered.

"Hiya Harry!" Ron sounded as enthused as Colin Creevy had been upon seeing the famous Harry Potter for the first time. Harry, who after conversing with Dumbledore so freely in his mind, had temporarily fallen out of reality. He immediately tried to talk to them in the same way. He was crestfallen when it didn't work.

"Professor McGonagall is here for the day shift, Harry. How's Hedwig?" Hermione picked up Harry's owl affectionately, and Hedwig seemed to nuzzle in apology for having bitten Hermione. "She looks wonderful, but I'd give a lot to know where she's been for all this time." Hermione mused. "I suspect we haven't got the whole story from that house elf." Hermione was so disdainful the way she said house-elf, that Ron and Harry wondered if she would be giving up on S.P.E.W., her house elf liberation movement she had started. As if hearing their musings, she said firmly, "Of course, Kreecher is a product of slavery, so we must realize that and treat him with caution and sympathy." Harry just rolled his eyes until she spoke again. "Of course, if he does one more thing wrong , he may find himself on that wall next to his dead relatives quicker than he thinks."

Harry's thought came much quicker than his real damaged voice would keep up with. "Snape gave Hedwig potion, me too," The strength it took out him even to talk, Harry almost wished Snape was here to give him some more of the potion. "Whoa! I must be really desperate to wish that," he caught himself.

The door burst open just as they were beginning to enjoy their time alone. "Hello Harry, I'm Miss Ketchel. It's time for your medicine. I'm just waiting for the head mediwizard who will be supervising my care of you today," she said cheerfully. Harry did not think these people would be looking after him, and his face showed his uncertainty.

"Argh!" Ron was disgusted, and he voiced it when Miss Ketchel went to find her boss, who was late. Harry had wanted so desperately to tell them about Sirius's gifts, and the will, and the watch his parents had left him for his sixteenth birthday, not to mention about Dumbledore's visit and Snape's secrets. He was simply bursting at the seams, and now he was to be someone's guinea pig.

It didn't help matters that Miss Ketchel was extremely pretty-and very young. She couldn't have been out of school long. When the impatient Miss Ketchel returned, she did not ask Ron and Hermione to leave, for which Harry was grateful...at first. He felt himself going scarlet red when they unceremoniously uncovered his entire body from the waist up, and flipped the blankets back from his legs, leaving only his privates covered. Harry was humiliated, horrified, and just when he thought his embarrassment could go no further, Hermione, unable to contain herself, gasped in horror and he saw Ron grimace.

Harry laid there, like a corpse while Miss Ketchel listened with a stethoscope to Harry's chest but she had clearly never done this before, and the head mediwizard had had only a few days practice at it as well. Ron, who was wholly sympathetic to Harry's plight, slipped out of the room to find someone who could at least expediate this awful invasion on his friend. Professor McGonagall immediately paged Stephanie, who stepped into the room and nonchalanntly covered Harry back up. The mediwizard, who in his opinion was finished, had stood over the shivering body of Harry, discussing him like he was in a morgue. Harry, who in the past had even felt slightly apprehensive about taking his shirt off on the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts on a warm sunny day, if there were girls around, was beyond livid.

Leaving Harry alone with his friends to gain some of his composure back, Stephanie said, "Now, Harry, I'll just go see about some pyjamas for you." Stephanie ushered the rude Miss Ketchel and the mediwizard, whom Harry now referred to as the fool and the fool's apprentice out of his room. He could not look Hermione in the eye.

"Sorry Harry! It's just that ...I...I wasn't prepared." Hermione stammered in apology. She hadn't meant to scare or insult him.

"Oh great, what now?" Harry's over reactive imagination had him wondering, "what did these muggle freaks do to me?"

"What?" Harry put the question to her, not really wanting to hear the answer. "It's just that...what?" he prompted, coughing painfully, voice very hoarse. She did not answer right away. The only good thing that had come out of this whole embarrassing situation, was that he had been given another dose of Snape's potion, and felt slightly better, although, the talented Miss Ketchel, no doubt dying to try a muggle syringe, had neglected to read Snape's notes that instructed the patient to drink the potion. She had uncovered his hip, exposing him further, and plunged the needle painfully into his hip, clearly not knowing how to perform this procedure. As this came back to him, (Snape's potion always had a moment long side effect of almost passing out with relief) Harry suddenly became alarmed that Hermione may have seen more of him than he'd thought when the trainee mediwizard had exposed his hip to inject him.

Harry knew that it was rude to whisper in front of other people, and that he and Hermione had had no secrets between them, but after what Harry had just been through, she did not begrudge him a side bar with Ron. Hermione nervously looked up at the ceiling. She had no clue as to what Harry's secret was, or she would be blushing scarlet. Hermione feared that Harry was angry with her for crying out upon seeing him almost naked.

"What did you see?...You and Hermione?...She didn't see?..." Ron almost burst out laughing with relief, despite his best friend's sincere concern, which was verging on death by embarrassment. Ron was glad that Harry was not angry with the two of them.

"Nah, mate, your secret's safe with me," Ron smiled at him, trying to break the tension. Harry had told Ron about his unfortunate scar on his buttocks from being shot with Dudley's pellet gun as a child. This having been said, Harry felt somewhat more relieved, but poor Hermione was still completely out of the loop. She was still apologizing profusely for reacting verbally to the massive surgical incisions on his chest, which were still stapled up, and made him resemble someone who had been zippered up. Harry had not seen his chest, as he had been lying down the whole time. All he knew was that it hurt a lot.

Professor McGonagall came into Harry's room with Stephanie, and he was slightly worried about a repeat performance when he saw pyjamas in her hands. "What is it, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked kindly, knowing what he had just endured.

"Hermione...please?" Harry asked sheepishly, indicating the door.

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, waving her wand over Harry's body and uttering, "Modesto!" The pyjamas magically covered Harry's body, casts and all. "Is that better, Mr. Potter?" She asked with a knowing smile on her face. Harry reasoned that he must be getting better, for she had been calling him Harry until now, and now resumed the formal, Mr. Potter. Harry was extremely grateful to Stephanie and Professor McGonagall., that he was not put on exhibition again. Now Hermione began to understand what Harry had been so secretive about.

"I know, Harry." There it was again, Harry. "Mrs. Golden told me of your unfortunate unveiling at the hand of those two ..." Professor McGonagall rarely questioned other's methods, except under supreme ineptitude. "I daresay you owe your rough treatment to the fact that the head mediwizard is used to getting his way around here, and being revered. He has been informed that from now on, Professor Snape's potions are to be your course of treatment, since they are obviously working and giving you less pain. He couldn't match Professor Snape's potions, without resorting to wizarding methods, and he is out of his element for the first time."

"So that's why that shot hurt my hip so much! He picked the most incompetent student to practice on me!"

"Harry, I'm awfully sorry, but Doctor Green wants to see you this morning as well," Stephanie informed him sympathetically. Would he ever get the chance to tell Ron and Hermione everything? At this rate, he doubted it, but he had no where to go, so he would have to wait.

Hermione made to leave the room, and Harry was grateful for it, but Doctor Green's casual greeting of, "Good morning, oh no need to leave, I'll just be a minute here." Hermione didn't want Harry to think he repulsed her, so she stayed put, but Harry had only been half convinced that she had seen nothing by Ron's playful proclamation that she hadn't seen the scar on his 'cheek.'

Harry had already felt like he'd been strip searched, but this was more discreet by a mile. Doctor Green barely opened his pyjama shirt to listen to his lungs and check his incisions. Than he uncovered his feet, and Harry was grateful for every pin prick he felt in each toe that Doctor Green touched.

"Your lungs are clear. That Professor Snape of yours is a genius. He has kindly agreed to share the ingredient list for his new lung treatment and instruction manual for this potion for us to take back with us when we leave. We will start our clinical studies right away, as this will no doubt save many lives. Just as the always practical Hermione was about to point out the obvious, Doctor Green informed them, "Your Professor Dumbledore decided it would be for the best for us to retain some of our memories from this event, so we can continue our research with all the new tools to fight sickness." Doctor Green was so proud to be involved in this, and he sounded like a superhero giving a 'save the day' speech. "Professor Dumbledore said this unfortunate situation could one day unite muggles, did he say? and wizards alike, for an upcoming event of historic proportions." Harry's stomach flipped. He knew that the war would effect muggles as well, and Dumbledore had begun a communication with them out of Harry's injuries. "You will start your respiratory exercises soon, and you should begin walking therapy soon after those casts come off, if everything goes well." Doctor Green told him, filling out his paper work.

"If all goes well?" Harry blurted out , worried. Professor Snape's potion was still working, and Ron and Hermione had hoped that everyone would leave while Harry's voice still held so they could talk to him.

"Yes, judging by your normal reflexes and response to stimuli, we feel your spine is healing nicely. No permanent or lasting damage, we think." Instead of taking this as good news, Harry's load of worry had been added to. What if they were wrong? Hermione knew that Harry's usual jump to a dismal end was getting the better of him. "Remember Harry, A. You're fine, and B. Even if you're not, Madame Pomfrey will be able to fix you right up, once you're back. After all, by than you'll be out of danger from dying of being transferred to wizarding medicine, and the security measures will be lessened there, besides, you know Madame Pomfrey, she won't be able to resist fussing anyway. You'll be fine Harry, I know you will."

Stephanie left, informing them that she had to help Tyler with his homework. "Professor Dumbledore has assigned him some pre-entry study, and that kind Professor Snape has offered to take him shopping for his school supplies." This announcement had caused them all to look at her squarely to see if her nose had grown with lies, for even witches and wizards had heard of the puppet, turned boy, whose nose grew with every lie he told, but the wizards and witches knew this story to be an absolute truth, while the muggles fancied it merely a fairy tale.

"Professor McGonagall left the room , toting with her what was unmistakenly a knitting bag. "Molly has taught me to knit. Normally, I would have just conjured a bolt of wool to transform into a garment, however it isn't somehow as satisfying as doing it yourself, you know?"Professor McGonagall had clearly needed a hobby in all these troubled times, and after all said Ron, defending his mother's knitting tutorial, "better hobby than habit."


	12. The Funeral

The more doses of Snape's potions Harry received, the stronger he became, and he didn't seem to use the strength up so quickly now. He knew he'd have nothing left if he didn't tell Ron and Hermione what he'd been dying to tell them all day. They were alone at last, he and his two confidants, but for some reason, none of them spoke for some time. Finally, Harry broke the silence, which was a relief to Ron and Hermione who were dying to know what had taken place. For a split second, Harry thought it might be nice to know something they didn't, to be the one withholding information for a change. He had suffered every summer, being cut off from his whole world, when he was after all, he reasoned , the main person who should be informed of everything right away.

Looking at their expectant faces, he could no more punish them for what had been out of their hands all along, than trust Snape at this point, besides, he needed to talk. "Sirius left me the house," he informed them emptily, referring to Grimauld Place, current head office for the Order Of The Phoenix... "and pretty much everything he owns...owned." He started with this news, as he did not know how to explain the amulet and the Griffin embossed pocket watch.

"Oh..." Poor Ron wasn't sure whether to be happy in regards to Harry's new wealth and home. It was definitely not jealousy anymore. That had been a brief and uncomfortably painful stint in their past together, which he was glad was behind them.

'What do I say?' Ron prodded his brain, looking for something tactful to say instead of just, 'oh.' "Well, you know, Sirius loved you mate. He never left your side after the tri wizard tournament, until he had to."

Harry remembered Sirius's sudden departure from his life, as dramatic as his arrival had been. Harry now thought of Max and wished he was there with him, especially when he would be living in the hospital wing at Hogwarts for a time. It was as big as a gymnasium, and slightly eery when alone at night. Harry couldn't believe how his mind wondered from subject to subject. Two weeks had built a bigger backlog of loneliness than any summer break twice as long had ever done.

"Yeah, guess he did," Harry said, in reference to the fact that Sirius had loved him. But there was so much to tell them. He chose, for no reason in particular, to show them the Griffin watch first. Hermione's eyes filled with tears as her fingers went over the Griffin and she read the inscription aloud, than read the card that had accompanied it.

"Wow, Harry!" Ron exclaimed enthusiastically, but than toned it down, but he hadn't needed to. For the first time in his life, Harry had a birthday gift from his parents and someone to share it with. He beamed as they went over the fine details like it was a treasure, which to Harry, it was. He told them about the watch's history through his family, and was surprised to hear himself talking so freely about his personal life to them. He than decided to tell them about Tyler, which was infinitely easier when able to speak, however weak his voice was becoming again. He was about to share with them what he'd wanted to tell them about since he had awoken to find himself in St. Mungos.

The story he needed to tell was considerably shorter than he thought it would have to be, for Hermione and Ron already knew that Tyler had been accepted to Hogwarts in an unprecedented invitation to someone who possessed no magical abilities that could easily be identified.

"There's more...loads more," Harry revealed as Ron sat on the edge of his bed, something that up until now, he'd been afraid to do. Hermione settled herself in the soft plush chair that Professor Dumbledore had conjured beside Harry's bed. Dumbledore had stated that the wooden straight back visitor's chairs would have fit in nicely as punishment in one of Filtch's old detention rooms.

"Well, Tyler heals animals, but in the woods, he was able to help me somewhat, when he'd never healed a human before. He said the reason he could reach me was because I have the heart of a lion or something like that." There, he said it, no matter how corny it sounded, to the people he was most anxious to share this revelation with.

"Professor Dumbledore told us that Tyler told him he's been healing animals since before he could even walk...that's not to say you're an animal, Harry," she added quickly, knowing that Harry could be touchy, about this secret.

"No offense taken Hermione, only since I got this watch with the Griffin on it, I've been wondering about my dreams lately." Harry didn't know why he was mentioning the dreams where he was a flying griffin, after all, what possible significance could this have, when he'd also dreamed that he'd seen Snape figure skating? He had had many crazy dreams in his illness. Now he regretted mentioning it at all.

"What dream's that, Harry?" Ron piped in, filling the long silence since the last statement .

Harry knew he'd never tell them if he didn't just blurt it out, figuring that they would naturally assume the dream had been a side effect of all the medicines he was having to take. "Oh, well...I was a Griffin, like the one on our house flag. I could fly, not with a broom, but with wings...wings that were mine...a part of me..." Harry got a far away look in his eyes.

"Earth to Harry," Ron called from a far off sort of voice.

"Oh...yeah," Harry landed back from his little daydream a little embarrassed.

Hermione had remained quiet during this time, contemplating all that she had seen and heard in the past few days to the present. She certainly didn't beat around the bush when she blurted out, quite seriously, "Harry, maybe you're an a animagus!"

"Hermione, animagi are made, not born. It can take even the most talented witches and wizards years to actually achieve it, and even with loads of practice, most never make it."

"Yes, but than there is Tyler's having said something about Harry having the heart of a lion," reasoned Hermione, putting all the information together. Harry watched Ron and Hermione volley suggestions about, like a tennis match, and not including him in the conversation.

"And than there's the fact that Harry Potter is a nutter who needs to be locked up," Harry added, making Hermione and Ron remember that he was in the room too.

"Sorry mate, of course we don't think you're a nutter, but even if we ever do, at least we only have to wheel you down to floor two, that's where they keep 'em," Ron quipped, but than he became suddenly sombre, as he recalled Neville's parents, who had become permanent residents of St. Mungos psychiatric ward. He now remembered watching Neville's mother lovingly giving her son an empty candy wrapper...out of her mind. Neville, despite being told by his Grandmother, to just put it in the trash, had lovingly tucked into his pocket when he thought no one was watching. Neville's parents had been Aurors, driven mad by the cruciatus curse, administered by Bellatrix Lestrange, who had ended up in Azkaban Prison, along with her husband, as known death eaters. The Lestranges had recently escaped or were let free by the Dementors of Azkaban, who were supposed to be guarding them. It had been Bellatrix who had killed Sirius at the Ministry of Magic right in front of Harry last school year.

Neville had been taken aback, upon finding out that Ron, Hermione and Harry had all been present to witness the visit. He was there with his stern Grandmother, whom he lived with. It had actually done Neville good to finally be able to talk about his parents. They were alive, but didn't know him, but Ron, Harry and Hermione had listened with patience as Neville had swelled with pride, as he told them of his parent's brave battle with Voldemort's deatheaters, and he had even said 'Voldemort,' which would have been impossible for him to say before this.

"Speaking of Neville, he's sent us loads of owls this year, to our respective houses of course. They've all just been re routed to Sirius's place,...sorry Harry." Hermione looked at him tentatively. Harry hadn't seem to mind her slip. Everyone was always apprehensive mentioning Sirius's name, for fear of making Harry feel worse. "Anyway, Neville wants to visit, he's been worried sick. Come to think of it, Harry, we should have told you ages ago. Professor Dumbledore has granted a few people that you know well, to visit, at your choice, of course.

"Who'd want to visit me?" Harry was interested to know who hadn't read and soaked up Rita Skeeter's aka Morgana Mausoleum's personal account of Harry's experiences this past summer. Rather accurate to begin with, but leaving him for dead near the end of the article. If this had been meant to put the pressure on Harry's caregivers to give up details to set the record straight, she had failed miserably, and had actually helped. This article would make Harry's journey back to Hogwarts hospital wing in less than two weeks time, go more smoothly. Not that Voldemort would believe Harry was dead, he'd know better, but any other news casters or curiosity seekers, would believe the article and so give up the big chase to find Harry Potter.

"Neville, and only a handful of others including the Order, know you're alive. Initially, Neville wasn't told, but Harry, he was beside himself until we told him the truth. Professor McGonagall went ballistic on us for telling him, but even she had to admit, that even telling him how badly injured you were, made him almost sick. She knew he could be trusted. To prove it, he's been wearing black and has gone into mourning. Professor Dumbledore reckons that Neville's coming to St. Mungos won't be seen as suspicious, as he regularly visits his parents. He's going to try to slip away from his Gran to come see you tonight."

Now Harry realized that the reason for his room being absent of get well wishes, was that to almost everyone he knew, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, had died. Deep down, he had harboured a little resentment at Cho Chang, for not sending a get well wish, even though they had barely had one pleasant conversation that hadn't ended in Cho crying about her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, who had been killed by Voldemort in Harry's presence the previous year at the end of the tri wizard tournament. It was at this moment that Harry felt a sudden unexplained yearning for an annoying singing get well card. Ginny had always sent him one when he'd even been slightly injured or sick. Ginny for her part, had thought she had embarrassed Harry enough with the poetic Valentine she had sent him years ago, and had vowed not to send him any more singing cards, valentines or bother him in that way again. For some reason, Harry felt he might just like one of those annoying sappy things at a time like this. Harry knew he was probably just probably thinking this way because of the distraction such a card would be from his black thoughts about Cedric's death, and all of the other horrible things that had befallen him since than.

Harry had tried in vain to save Cedric, and in fact nearly perished himself. He too, had mourned Cedric's death, though they were little more than acquaintances. Cedric had been a good person, and Harry had held himself somewhat responsible for his death, although Cho did not blame him, not outwardly anyway. Harry felt a little glad that Cho would think he had died as well.

Harry had no idea how far the word of his death had spread, until Hermione produced a copy of the Daily Prophet, the first Harry had seen all summer. She held up the headline, "Funeral to be held for Harry James Potter on Wednesday August 21 at midnight, Professor Albus Dumbledore Officiating." Harry did a double take. Hermione read the rest of the article, which made them all feel grateful it wasn't true, but brought back the fact, that one day very soon, any day at all, it could come true...

It was remarkable how accurate Rita Skeeter's article was, in her description of Harry's injuries and attempted resuscitation at the accident scene.

"Accident!" Harry croaked.

"Yeah Harry, they've put it round that you were out in one of your sour bitter moods, against the advice of your loving and concerned guardians, and were caught in a freak storm and crushed to death by a fallen tree. Harry was used to getting no public support or thanks for his fight against an evil dark lord, but the next paragraph really angered him. It was as though the world at large somehow knew how much had been riding on him, and here, he had died, leaving the wizarding world fend for itself without it's 'boy who lived' mascot to keep up morale.

"We thought you should know mate," Ron told him apologetically. Before Neville blurted it out. You know how worked up he can get. He threatened to blow Rita Skeeter up, right along with the Daily Prophet. Apparently Snape hadn't been her only previous target. Neville's parents had been painted as inept after the attack on their house by Bellatrix Lestrange, by non other than Rita Limerick. Wonder how many names she's written under?"

Harry could not believe what he was reading and hearing. His head was spinning. According to the article, Hagrid, Professor Snape, Fred and George Weasley, and last, but not least, Dudley Dursley, were to be his poll bearers. Dudley had been quoted in the article as saying, "Harry was my favourite cousin, but also my best friend." He was described as having been wiping away tears at the time.

"Only cousin!" Harry stormed, voice fading with every outburst.

"Actually, Harry, Dudley only gave a statement because Professor Dumbledore asked him to. He's been a big help, he may really be growing up," Hermione mused.

Harry had seriously entertained these feeling too, but he wasn't ready to let bygones be bygones yet. Years of slow torture by someone whose only mission in life, is to get more than you and beat you to a pulp at every turn for your whole life, cannot be trusted without major proof of change. Harry had had far too big a day for him, at this point of his recovery. He felt exhausted. This was overload, plain and simple.

"Harry, mate, get some sleep," Ron suggested, squeezing his shoulder. He could see how pale and weak Harry had become.

'He has got to be joking', Harry thought. After all this, he wondered if he'd ever sleep again. He had now lost his voice again, and found that with all the information swimming around his head, his eyes became too tired to hold open. Ron and Hermione hated having to tell him all of this, but Professor Dumbledore had felt it best if he heard it from those he loved. They slipped from his room, whispering, "see you tomorrow Harry, feel better."

Professor McGonagall checked on the sleeping boy, before leaving Tonks in charge for the night. Neville had been disappointed that Harry had slept through his intended visit. Neville had gone home, telling Tonks to 'just say hi , I'm glad you're feeling better." Tonks smiled at Neville, causing him to blush deeply. She was back to her silvery blonde hair, and reminded Neville of a Veela too.

"Of course, Neville, I'll tell Harry," she promised him, flashing him a smile that he was so intent upon, he bumped into the glass door of the elevator. He was thoroughly disgusted with his clumsiness, for Neville had recently gained a certain amount of self respect. He had fought beside his friends, and maybe even saved their lives. He had gone on, in blinding pain with a broken nose and the effects of the cruciatus curse. No, Neville Longbottom, was no longer just a behind the scenes, don't get involved sort of person. He, like Harry and Ron were growing up. Now though, with this beautiful , but imposing auror, he was Neville Longbottom, clumsy oaf. He could have died when the elevator reached the bottom floor, and his Gran snarled at him,"Your face is all red! I hope you haven't picked up anything contagious in this filth pit," but when she put her hand to Neville's forehead to check for fever, it was delivered in a loving manner.

Neville had been so desperate to brag about his role at the Ministry of Magic, so Gran would finally be proud of him, but he had for some reason, played down his life saving role. He longed to share the details of the story to two people, who at this time, understood very little, not even that Neville was their son. Gran had praised him and even cooked his favourite meals for a week. She had even given him more freedoms, like finally being allowed to try out for a summer recreational Quidditch Team. Neville had been learning to fly better from Fred and George Weasley, who had sold him, at a very nice discount, they assured him, a series of magical pills, which were for improving one's flying skills. They assured him that every professional Quidditch team were using the highly contenscious supplements, and as they were to be banned soon, Neville should take their whole supply, even though, they, as regular partakers of this wonder supplement, were selling the last of their own private stock. What had made the Weasley twins and Ron laugh, was that the supplements were simply a market research failed flavour of Bertie Bott's every flavour bean. Watching them laugh at the time, Hermione really had to wonder what possible flavour could have been rejected by a company who sold vomit, booger and ear wax flavour, just to mention a few. The thing that amused them the most, was that it had worked! Neville rarely, if ever, fell of his broom, or got injured in a crash, which was a frequent occurrence before.

Harry lay in troubled dreams. He saw a large hall, the great hall at Hogwarts. Among one large Griffindor flag, hung many black flags. The school's bell rang out slowly and mournfully. The great hall's carved oak doors opened magically and a slow methodical procession began. The six poll bearers, sombre faced, and dressed in black mourning cloaks, save for one, Dudley, who was in a plain black suit and tie, which made him look almost thin.

The Griffindor flag draped coffin remained closed as the pol bearers took their seats, leaving Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape standing at either end as some sort of honour guard. Harry wanted to yell, "stop!" but could not. No one even noticed him standing there beside his own casket.

"Witches and Wizards, ladies and gentlemen, people of the press," Dumbledore began, looking significantly at Rita Skeeter. "What is she doing here?" Harry demanded, to no response at all. As he looked around the gathering, he saw Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. "Can dead people faint?" It certainly felt like he was going to now.

"Hermione?" Harry crept over to her, and made to snip her ear. "You're putting it on a bit thick, aren't you? For someone in the know..." His finger passed right through her ear! If it was possible, Ron was more full of grief than even Hermione. Mr. Weasley gripped Ron's shoulders tightly. He was so pale, in sharp contrast to his red hair. His shoulders shook uncontrollably, and he was wearing dark glasses. Ginny, sat, head on her mother's shoulder, looking like she'd cried all the tears that could be manufactured without complete dehydration. She sobbed, but no more tears would come forth. She did not look at Dumbledore, but could not take her eyes off that casket, as if she thought that if she stared at it long enough, she could make sense of it.

Harry felt like he had in the chamber of secrets when he had saved Ginny from Voldemort and the basilisk. He really wanted to go to her. Ron and Hermione had each other, Ginny had always been a little alone. She had of course dated, but wasn't particularly close to anyone, and didn't even seem all that hung up on hanging out with friends. She had always just liked it best when she could trail after he Ron and Hermione. That one year age difference that used to seem so significant, now didn't register to any of them anymore.

Panic stricken about not being felt by Hermione, Harry went straight to Ginny. She had gone through Voldemort's possession, too. Maybe she would sense him? Harry moved his hand to lift her chin up to look into his face, but it had passed right through her head.. Harry stood stock still just staring at his hand, turning it around in front of himself. He was now trying to convince himself that this was just another crazy dream. "Come on, Ron, they're going to give you a best actor award if you don't quit it soon. Where'd you learn this, overactors anonymous?" Normally, Ron would have burst out laughing at the faces Harry had pulled...normally.

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were supported by Bill and Charlie on either side. Harry had wondered why they had travelled this far, just for this charade. Mrs Weasley was absolutely inconsolable. Harry's eyes roamed through the huge crowd, until his eyes fell upon a small figure, standing on a wooden block in order to see better. It was Dobby, the house-elf, whom Harry had freed from the Malfoy family. His eyes were swollen and red, and he was wearing an outfit made of black socks, with the significant sock, the one Harry had freed him with, being sewn into place over Dobby's heart.

Max, Harry's dog , which as yet, he had not even had the pleasure to walk, sat motionless next to the casket, every once in awhile whining loudly. The first person to ever show the poor thing kindness, was gone.

Professor Snape looked as ever, cold and unreadable. Professor McGonagall stood stoicly, just dabbing at her eyes under her square spectacles from time to time. Rita Skeeter's quick quill quotes quill, ran across the page as fast and smooth as ever. Harry had been told of Snape's run in with Rita Skeeter. Harry assumed that Rita believed him dead, as she had written. He wasn't sorry for this, maybe she'd leave him alone, but now he was becoming alarmed that maybe he'd actually died for real, having fallen asleep when Ron and Hermione left, and not waking up again.

Now, Harry was really horror stricken, and tried to make a spectacle of himself, but failed miserably. "Hagrid, over here! How 'bout you and me blow this joint and get ourselves some mead!" Hagrid, deciding to take care of Harry better now that Sirius was gone, would have laughed heartily at this, than he would have given Harry a lecture to go on indefinitely about the effects of under aged drinking.

Harry, who was of course rather repulsed by alcohol in general, because of the hideous behaviour displayed by those under it's influence, had doubted that he would ever get around to wasting his time with it. This wasn't like the other dreams, Harry did not want to accept death, like he had in the other dreams, so when his outburst went unnoticed, he had gone from welcoming death to raging against it. The pain he had felt in those other dreams, the pain that made him want to curl up and die, was missing. This couldn't be good. He felt nothing, not cold, not pain, nothing. Now Harry began to shout out his own eulogy. If this was it, it should at least be the truth.

"You never appreciated me when I was here!" he shouted at the students. "I was like a freak show to you...to all of you! You expected me to, to entertain you with my life...You all...you..." His voice trailed off as he saw Cho Chang, sobbing into a handkerchief. In her hands, was a picture of Cedric Diggory and himself, smiling stiffly for the camera during a photo shoot for the tri wizard tournament. Harry's forced smile sharply contrasted Cedric's ear to ear grin of elation. Suddenly, Harry heard a voice even more clear to him than Dumbledore's. Nearly Headless Nick, glided through the great hall toward him. Harry could tell no one else saw Nearly Headless Nick this time. "Harry, how wonderful to see you. With your vote added, I'm sure to be able to join the headless hunt this year. Everyone is gathered in the dungeon. Unlike birthday parties, Deathday parties begin the day you cross to the other side. Think of it, I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington, presenting Harry Potter at his first annual Deathday party.

"Get away from me!" Harry pushed Nearly Headless Nick, and his hands found solid matter. Why could he feel and push away Nearly Headless Nick, the Griffindor ghost, when he could not touch Hermione or Ginny?

"Harry, lad," Nick empathised, we all fight it at first, but you don't want to be like ...her." Nick had pointed to a spot behind Harry, where stood Moaning Myrtle.

"Oh Harry. I'm so sorry for your loss, but now you can join me swimming, talking about our deaths...oh it'll be wonderful!" Myrtle sounded like Harry had just asked her to the prom.

"No, no, you've got it all wrong! This is all just an elaborate ruse. I'm not dead, I'm coming back, ask them..." He turned to point out Ron and Hermione, who were filing out slowly. Mrs Wesley had needed assistance to walk out. "Ron! Hermione! Tell them, please, make it stop!"

"They can't hear you, Harry," Myrtle advised him, placing her arm around his shoulders and making him feel worse, if that were possible at this point.

"Well why can they usually see and hear you, and now they can't?" he demanded.

"Because, when we pick up beginners like you, there is too much resistance, and it upsets the mourners and ruins a perfectly good funeral. You need to be trained. You know, gliding, moving solid matter...that sort of thing." Nick filled him in like he was about to start kindergarten. Nick allowed Harry to stay to 'enjoy' his funeral, while he would see about preparations for the Deathday party, sure to be the best yet.

Harry's casket arrived at it's final destination down by the lake. A hole had been dug, and Professor Dumbledore was throwing a handful of earth onto it. Ron and Hermione followed suit. Hermione placed a small red rose in Ginny's trembling hands and Ginny tossed it lightly into the grave. This act was followed by the Weasleys and the Griffindor Quidditch Team, who, excepting the Weasley players, had donned the uniforms as a tribute. The Griffindor flag that had draped the coffin, had been neatly folded, was presented to Aunt Petunia, who didn't even have the decency to fake a tear. Harry was angry. He grabbed the flag, and it flew into Mrs Weasley's hands. Mrs Weasley looked around, and right through him. Now, Harry tried to make them hear him. He had made something solid move... Fred had followed the flag from Petunia to his mother and had discreetly moistened the tip of his finger to feel a wind, but there had been none. He shook his head for being so foolish as to hope that somehow Harry was there with them. The coffin was lowered into the ground. "Stop, I can't breathe, Ill die for real! Please...no!" Everyone faded from his sight, even Moaning Myrtle, who had accompanied him to the lake. "I can't breathe! Help Me!"

Harry awoke, flailing around. His blankets all tangled up, his intravenous ripped out. Stephanie was turning up his oxygen and reapplying his mask, which had fallen off in his struggle. The struggle he had had to get the flag away from Aunt Petunia, had in reality been his bed linens that he'd been pulling on. Harry was now half in, half out of dreams.

"I'm not dead, leave me alone!" he screamed. Than he did an about face. "Help me please, I can't breathe in here, let me out!" Harry's fists were pounding imaginary confines, and Stephanie could barely restrain him.

"Call Doctor Green, and get Tonks in here now!" she ordered Tyler, but suddenly, through a haze of not being able to see the ghosts or the living, a single small figure, stood out clear and sharp in Harry's sight, though his glasses remained on the bedside table.

"Harry, I think I see what's happening here. You're dreaming. It's really interesting to watch some of the larger cats sleep. Their paws go, they chase imaginary prey...You're dreaming, Harry, and it feels like a bad one, come on, wake up," Tyler soothed, taking Harry's physical hand and leading him like a child. Harry woke, screaming himself hoarse. Stephanie had let go of him, but Tyler still held Harry's hands to his forehead tenderly, just as Harry had seen him do with the injured animals at the clinic.

"Oh...Please Tyler," Harry begged, "Tell them you can see me..." Harry tried to remove the oxygen mask, but Stephanie held it firmly in place. Harry was still not in the present, though he could see Stephanie now. "Don't let them take me..please Tyler...tell them to let me out...I can't breathe..." Harry now woke fully, and his need for his glasses became apparent immediately. He stopped calling out, feeling a sharp prick as someone restarted his intravenous. This brought Harry fully around. It was the heavy handed equivalent to, 'pinch me to see if I'm dreaming.' "It's okay Harry, you're fine now," Tyler informed him in his real voice, which was so much younger and lighter than his dream speech had been, and somehow, less easy to believe, because at this point, Harry could not decipher dream from reality.

"Nice deep breaths now Harry," Doctor Green ordered. Harry complied as effectively as he could. "Remarkable," Doctor Green concluded. "The rattle you had in your chest is nearly gone." None of them, except Tyler had any idea what Harry had just been through. Physically, he was gaining ground, but now he wondered if he was going to lose it mentally after all. He could not reconcile the fact that he had slept for two straight days. Tonks was on her second night shift, not her first, like he'd figured. It was Thursday, one week and a half until his return to Hogwarts.

Harry hadn't meant to be impolite, but he'd turned them all out to be alone for awhile. He thought morbidly of who would come to Snape when he died if Harry lost to Voldemort. Or even more to think of if Voldemort lost to Harry, and Snape hadn't found out a way to fight his debt of servitude in the after life.

"Tonks couldn't help but open his door a crack to check on Harry. "Alright Harry?"

"Yeah, it was nothing,"he lied, and she was right to bring him some good news. The funeral dream had really rattled him.

"Harry, we contacted Ron and Hermione to tell them you're awake. Mrs Weasley is escorting them here now. We figured you could use some company. Fred and George have been in to check on you, and Ron and Hermione were here all day yesterday." They were beyond worried, but we assured them that you were just sleeping, and healing. Mrs. Weasley's given them permission to spend the night. You've been sleeping for two days, so she figured you'd need to talk. Harry found this surprising. They had usually just knocked him back out with sleeping potion, but they did not want him becoming addicted.

As Harry lay thinking of his dreams, he wondered why Sirius hadn't come for him, if he was truly dead, or his parents... He shook these thoughts out of his head. It was like looking into the mirror of Erised, these fantasies he was now allowing himself, only showed him his hearts true desire. The more he thought it about it, Dumbledore's voice of reason broke through. Death is merely another step in the journey, and these people hadn't died to save him, for him to wish for death. Not that he was wishing for death, just wondering who would come for him when he truly met his death. He had a secret fantasy of seeing his parents come for him, with open arms, and he would be a child again, and able to start over again, the way things should have been.

Harry knew that all of life's experiences, good or bad, contributed to who he was today. He wondered who he would have become, if raised by his parents, and these thoughts took him away until Ron and Hermione arrived. Would he have played Quidditch?...yes, he decided. Would he have been friends with Ron?...yes, he decided, only it would have been a different relationship all together. He also wondered if Ron would have liked his parents, although truth be faced, Harry didn't even know much about them. Still, sad, but entertaining thoughts.

Harry was glad for a few minutes alone. He had thanked Tyler profusely, making the boy extremely proud. Tyler had now picked up on the fact that Harry was famous for reasons he did not want, a hero in Tyler's eyes. Tyler had taken Voldemort's existence in stride, especially for a muggle who had been made aware of the dark lord in such a dramatic way. He seemed to have limitless faith in Harry, almost unnerving faith.

As if sensing Harry thinking about him, Tyler entered the room to retrieve his books that he'd left behind. Harry thanked him again, and Tyler beamed, "You're welcome, Harry. Well I'll be going, your friends are coming."

Harry wanted to say, "you're my friend too," but felt it a little too assuming. What if Tyler didn't want the association anymore, after finding out who he really was? This was of course, Harry's insecurity. "You don't have to leave...if you don't want to," Harry told his first muggle friend timidly. The couple of minutes alone with his thoughts was all that Harry found he wanted. His nerves were shot, and he really didn't want to be alone. He was glad Tyler stayed. It was the first time he'd been able to speak to Tyler alone since the attack. Harry was afraid to come right out and ask Tyler why he had referred to him as having the heart of a lion, but he had no need. Tyler felt free to speak about his gift for the first time with someone other than his family. Tyler was so much more self assured now that he'd met with Professor Dumbledore, and had taken special lessons with Professor Snape. He still had no idea what was different about the boy.

Tyler revealed that though he'd never healed a human before in any significant way, except cuts and bruises, that when he had read Harry, he saw him as a big wild cat. As near as Tyler could tell, a lion. Tyler admitted that he had only had contact with such a creature once when he had comforted a stressed lion at the zoo. This particular lion had been one of the unfortunate animals housed at a zoo that cared more about profit than care. The lion was exhibiting all the signs of anxiety. His repetitive head shaking, made it obvious that he was out of his mind with boredom, in a wholly inadequate cement enclosure, which allowed for no exercise and very little shade. Tyler had been distressed to say the least, to find the monkeys, apes and elephants, all suffered in similar deplorable conditions.

Tyler somehow had summoned the animals to come to him. He was uncertain how he'd done it, but he'd somehow given each animal a kind of dream escape. Tyler pictured each animal's natural habitat from magazines he'd seen and mentally gave to each of them, these pictures. The animals all seemed vastly contented. Tyler had successfully persuaded the zoo keepers to start providing more natural stimuli for the animals by threatening to expose their lack of proper care for their animals. Over time Tyler had made friends with the new zoo keeper and conditions improved rapidly, as he saved the zoo money because the animals were less stressed, and thus suffered less ailments.

"You feel out of your element now Harry, like that lion, but well... I almost sensed wings like a bird that you could use to fly away, but that's out of your reach right now, so more or less you feel like a caged lion who's never been allowed out. Tyler had summoned up in one sentence what Harry had felt like every moment with the Dursley's, and now especially, bedridden as he was.

Harry had so many unanswered questions but he had no chance to tell Tyler about his lion dreams and his winged lion dreams. Somehow he trusted Tyler not to jump to conclusions that he was coming unglued.

At that moment, Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley arrived. Mrs. Weasley took over immediately, fluffing his pillow and reassuring him that it had been just a horrible dream. Of course they didn't know how horrible, but they had been told that he woken up screaming.

Hermione who had her hair in pigtails and was still sporting her feetie pyjamas which resembled the ones worn by infants, was the first to get right to the point. "What is it Harry?" She was full of concern.

"Oh n-nothing" he rasped. He really felt the need for some pain relief. Tyler looked at his watch and announced as if in answer to his discomfort. You're due for your shot of Professor Snape's potion any time now . Good news though, he's sent word you're to drink them both, no more needles in the hip."

Dr Green and Stephanie came in . "Tyler its' three o'clock in the morning. When were done here, back to the dorms with you." She hugged Tyler warmly. "Harry, I just came to give you your medicine... potion", she corrected. "Let's see how you take to swallowing."

For the first time he'd been in St. Mungos, he was being propped up. Dr. Green looked for the button or hand crank to prop the bed. He looked at Mrs. Weasley, puzzled.

"Okay Harry, we're ready. It'll likely be slightly uncomfortable on your chest at first, but it's time to get you moving. Aciavoo!" Mrs. Weasley commanded the bed which began to slowly prop Harry up. Harry closed his eyes waiting for the discomfort Dr. Green had warned him of, but instead it felt wonderful. His back stretched slightly. He felt some pressure leave from his chest and ribs. He removed the oxygen mask himself and raised the medicine to his lips. It went down much smoother than when Professor Snape had poured it down his throat lying down. It was really hard to swallow, but he managed it without trouble.

It felt nice to have nothing over his mouth and nose. He could feel the indents of the mask. His jaw bone had healed and the stitches had been removed from the many gashes on his face and body from the branches of the fallen trees. It was the first time Hermione and Ron had seen his face fully since the end of the last term at Hogwarts. They all looked at him in appraisal, swollen cheek and jaw and cuts and bruises, but still the same old Harry.

The potions took effect immediately as they had done when injected, for which Harry was grateful, for he'd noticed Dr. Green had carried with him a syringe just in case.

"Keep on like this Harry and I may even be able to let you have jell-O tomorrow." Dr. Green was talking about Jell-O like it was Harry's favourite dish, actually Harry had never cared for it, but now he thought of it , he hadn't eaten or drank anything in almost three weeks, Jell-O was sounding better and better all the time.

"Not to worry, dear," Mrs Weasley soothed, as only she could, "As soon as you're able to eat, you'll have whatever you want. Harry smiled at her, remembering how when he got to the burrow, looking thinner than he should, she would make all of his favourites to build him back up again. Each time Harry had arrived from the Dursleys looking haggard, Mrs Weasley wished she could curse them. She had not been impressed by the ton tongue toffee incident, but secretly felt like the Dursleys had deserved this, and wondered how Harry had managed all these years, without more incidents of severe under age magic, like blowing up his Aunt Marge to the size of the sitting room in his third year.

"Okay, now that you're reclined, let's have a look at your chest," Doctor Green said. He breathed on his stethoscope to warm it, which Mrs Weasley approved highly of. As he opened his pyjama shirt, Harry saw the surgical incision on his chest for the first time. His new found appetite disappeared as quickly as it had come as he took in the countless staples. Harry felt like he was going to be sick. Now he knew why Hermione had had such a uncharacteristically tactless reaction to seeing his chest for the first time.

"You've healed remarkably well," Doctor Green marvelled. Harry thought he had to be joking. "Professor Snape rubbed your chest with a remarkable new salve he concocted himself. A very expediated closure of a wound this size. The staples come out tomorrow, because of this special salve, and that should reduce some of the swelling. This salve is another medicine that has been made available to us through your Professor." Harry wondered if Dumbledore had ordered that Snape give some potion lists to the doctors due to upcoming war. They would certainly be needed at such a time.

Harry could think of little else but those awful staples. If this was what they looked like after special treatment, what had they been like before this? The thought of Professor Snape making a special salve for him, confused him, but the thought of Snape actually taking the time to rub it on himself, was downright scary. Teenage vanity soon got the better of Harry, as he wondered what the rest of him looked like. He asked for a mirror, not having seen his reflection since he'd been back in Privet Drive.

"There's one in the night table," Hermione offered, ignoring everyone else's subtle gestures to 'tell him we don't have one!'

Harry stared at his own reflection, that he had only seen in dreams lately, one which stood out vividly in his mind as he gazed at himself. In this dream, his face had been horribly misshapen from his injuries, and he had broken the mirror in his horror. It wasn't as bad as all that, but he did, he thought, look like he'd been in a train wreck. To everyone else, he looked much better than he had even a week ago, and they were glad that Harry hadn't asked for a mirror than.

Harry was reminded of Snape when he saw his own hair, which had an even more untidier appearance than usual. He knew at first glance that he'd lost weight he could ill afford to lose. Harry now noticed something else. His teeth, he now vaguely remembered had been painfully knocked from his mouth by the trees branches. He opened his stiff jaw as wide as he could to inspect, and was shocked when he found his teeth had regrown, and the broken ones had been mended good as new.

"Er..." Hermione began timidly. Once you were holding your own, Professor Snape felt it wouldn't be too much of a strain on your muggle healing to make you some new teeth. It was my idea. My parents are dentists, you know.? Teeth are important to us. I asked Professor Snape to make you a potion I read about, similar to skelegrow, and well, for some reason, he did, but if he didn't Harry, I know my mom and dad would've made you new ones.

"What! Hermione, are you mad?" Ron asked, wide eyed. "No offense, but your parents are dentists. They're more nutty than doctors, drilling in people's mouths, honestly!" He was absolutely squeamish and disgusted with the whole idea, and in truth, Harry, having lived with the Dursleys, hadn't seen much of the dentist in his life, either. He was just as glad. He had to agree with Ron on this point, nutters, the whole lot of them.

"Well, there are such things as pain killers, you big babies," Hermione scolded.

'Yeah, but they have to give it to you with a needle in your mouth, I ask you...Oh sorry, mate," Ron added, looking at the needle in Harry's arm again with a shudder.

"Ugh," Harry moaned. He had a slightly greenish tinge, after seeing his chest and talking about dentists. Now he knew why his mouth had hurt so much, besides the fact that his jaw had been broken. Hermione put his mask back on.


	13. When a Stranger Calls

The gruelling night Harry had put in with his horrible funeral nightmares was half over when he received at least some good news. "You can take your oxygen mask off from time to time when you feel stronger. It will be good for you to take short breaks from it," Dr Green explained. "This is an exercise you can start tomorrow," he demonstrated to Harry, showing him a lung capacity tester. "You blow in here and try to get the red ball to the top of the chamber. Don't be alarmed if you can't get it to go to the top at first. It will take time. You need to build your strength and lung capacity back up again. Ron, Hermione, you can be his personal trainers. Don't let him slack. See you in the morning, Harry. I, for one, am going to retire, again." He bade them goodnight, and left, followed by Stephanie and Tyler. It had been hours since Harry had woken up screaming, and he still felt uneasy to let himself drift back to sleep, though he was exhausted.

Harry felt guilty for needing his friends so much. They were so sleepy, but they stifled their yawns. "Sorry," he apologized, suggesting, not too convincingly that he didn't need them to stay.

"Harry, you're not gonna get rid of us that easy, mate." Ron smiled, through a yawn. He and Hermione were each acutely aware, that if one of them were hospitalized, Harry wouldn't leave their side when they needed him. They also knew that their parents would be there with them around the clock at a time like this. The weight of this fell heavily, as they realized, not for the first time, that they were his family. Mrs Weasley pulled Harry's blankets snugly around him, and despite the fact that he was rather warm, he didn't make her stop. Somehow this made him feel better, as she bent down and kissed his forehead. "Now that's my brave boy," she smiled and though Harry fought himself for having liked her comment, though it was a little below his age level, he consoled himself with the fact that Mrs Weasley had even talked to her one of her older sons in this manner when they had merely had a cold.

"Don't talk for too long," she gently warned him, glancing forcefully at her son and Hermione. The potions and gentle care from Mrs Weasley had made him feel better, but had also thrown into sharp relief that which he had never known until he had met the Weasleys, a gentle touch. It both comforted and worried Harry to know how much they cared for him, with him so dangerous to be around and all. They talked for awhile, and for a change, Ron and Hermione fell asleep as Harry watched them, Ron on the spare bed, and Hermione curled up on the plush chair. Mrs Weasley had gone out into the corridor to knit and talk with Tonks.

Harry studied their faces. Even in sleep, he could see they had changed, and were full of care. Harry had tried unsuccessfully to convince himself that he wasn't lonely, but without Hedwig, Ron and Hermione, the loneliness would have enveloped him, after the dream he'd had. He had not decided as yet, to tell them about it or not.

Harry was startled to be awakened by Doctor Green's cheerful, "Good morning!" as he flipped open the blinds. He could not believe he'd fallen asleep again, after having slept for two days. Ron and Hermione were blinking in the newly sunbathed room. It was ten o'clock in the morning. Hermione, who was usually an early riser, still seemed sleepy. Ron awoke, mumbling, "go Canons, go...score!" Hermione and Harry laughed, as he sat up, rubbing his eyes, asking, "What?" He had no idea what had been so funny. Harry had really needed this.

Doctor Green gave Harry his medicine, took his pulse, checked his chest, and Harry knew the drill, but it was getting monotonous. He was feeling somewhat better and felt all the fussing unnecessary, well except Mrs Weasleys... and there it was again, that momentary nagging at the back of his mind about a certain other female member of the Weasley clan, who he hadn't seen since he'd awoken. He was jarred from his wonder at this by the door opening.

Mrs Weasley bustled in with a breakfast tray for Ron and Hermione. It was the first food Harry had smelled since his injures had made eating an impossibility. The bacon, eggs and toast , smelled and looked wonderful. He suddenly felt ravenous. "Good news Harry, dear. You get to try some jell-O today." She smiled at him warmly.

"Oh, great, green, my favourite." He tried to sound appreciative. He was horrified when Mrs Weasley propped his bed up, tucked a napkin into his pyjama shirt, and raised a spoonful of jell-O to his mouth. He didn't know what else to do, so he just opened his mouth and took it.

"Oh, mom, I know you love him, but he's not a baby!" Ron scolded mildly. Harry was sorry and grateful all at once.

"Oh, of course you're not dear, I just thought your arms would be too sore to..." she trailed off

Now it was Ron's turn to be sorry. Mrs Weasley had felt helpless to take care of Harry until now, when something, the only thing she could relate to about nurturing in this foreign atmosphere of muggle medicine, was finally something that seemed more natural; feed the patient. Harry stole a look at Ron, who nodded his head in approval of what Harry was about to do.

"Er...Mrs Weasley? My arms... they are, sore I mean." Harry only half lied. "Would you?"

Mrs Weasley was elated to finally have a direct hand in his care. She happily fed him every disgusting spoonful. Harry could not believe that swallowing this gelatinous muck could be painful, but with his throat so raw from the tubes, it wasn't going as smoothly as he'd thought. He coughed several times before Mrs Weasley replaced his oxygen mask, and gently rubbed his shoulders.

"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked, removing the napkin.

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," Harry said, in genuine appreciation. He could tell she felt better by finally seeing him eat something, though Jell-O hardly constituted real food, and her affection for him, was evident as she held him a long loving gaze. He suddenly felt rather proud. He hadn't been born into this family, they'd picked him, and jell-O or no, he'd put up with the excessive coddling, the curfews when staying at the burrow, and even the occasional beratements when they'd done something wrong. It was worth it.

"Well, dears, I must get back. It wouldn't do any of you harm to take a nap today, to catch up. Your spare clothes are in your knapsacks. I packed them before I woke you. Professor McGonagall is here today, so be good. Harry wondered where Snape had been since the beginning of the week. He remembered how tired and gaunt the potions master had been. He guessed he must have been sleeping when Snape had come to rub the salve on his chest, a blessing he was eternally grateful for. That would have been just too creepy.

Now that they were alone again, Harry decided to tell Ron and Hermione about his funeral dream. Somehow, in the light of day, it didn't seem quite so scary, but when he'd finished, Ron and Hermione had suddenly stopped munching their breakfast. For one, they felt kind of guilty eating in front of him and for another, it brought to the surface the fact that they had to attend Harry's decoy mock funeral tomorrow at midnight. It had been the talk of the upcoming funeral that had induced these terrifying dreams to begin with.

"I ah...already went...to the...my... funeral I mean..." He said, and despite his resolution that he wouldn't let this dream haunt him, he shuddered at the mere memory of it. At first, he'd felt confident telling the story in broad daylight, but to match his tone, the sun faded from the window, and was replaced by a dull gray light that crept weakly into the room.

"Are you alright?" asked Hermione, standing up to get a closer look at Harry, who had paled at the sudden change in the sky, remembering the real horrors of the storms he had endured.

"Yeah," Harry replied, looking like he was trying to shrug it all off. "Yeah...only it was so real. I was dead...and you buried me. Harry looked at them with a haunted look in his eyes, almost as if asking them why they'd done such a thing. It had been so very real. They didn't know what to say, so Ron tried to put a different spin on things.

"Fred and George are giving us concentrated odourless onion extract to put around our eyes to help us cry at the funeral, because we know you're alive Harry," Ron said for Harry's benefit, seeing how he was still staring at them for an explanation as to why they had buried him. Ron was worried that a small part of Harry was still stuck in his dream, though he was awake. He kept talking as lightly as he could as much for Harry's benefit as his own. There was something in Harry's tone that had actually made him feel guilty for something he hadn't even done. "An added touch befitting their fine inventions, don't you think?" Ron prodded, just to hear Harry say something. Harry was slightly humoured by this, but still could not get the very real tears Ron, Hermione and Ginny had cried in his dream. "Of course, our Hermione here, cries at the drop of a hat, so no problem there." Ron chided her. It was true. Hermione usually cried at the end of Quidditch match when Griffindor won, or lost, or if someone, usually Harry ended up hurt. Hermione took the good natured ribbing in stride, than they turned back to Harry's nightmare. He finished his story with being locked into the coffin and buried. Ron shuddered and Hermione was filled with pity for him.

"Well, in any case, you'll be safe, and well...sound here during the whole thing, than we'll come right back, okay?"

"Sure," Harry replied, in that outnumbered, outvoted kind of voice he'd developed for just such times.

Hermione tried desperately to make him feel better. "One of the newer members of the Order will be on your door duty here today, because if anyone expected, who is close to you, didn't show at the funeral, it would look fishy. All of the replacements have been training vigorously. You'll be in good hands," but Hermione sounded apprehensive. Harry could tell that she was anxious about trusting in the new comers for security, for no one had ever bothered to tell them where the new Order members had come from.

"I don't get it, it's not like Voldemort doesn't know I'm alive and kicking...for now, so who cares if someone else doesn't believe I'm dead either?"

"Harry, you know that if people believe you're gone, it will be easier for you to get some time to heal, without a bunch of sneaky reporters milling about. Besides, all of Voldemort's supporters are not death eaters. They don't know the secret, and you know if they thought you were still alive, they'd have a go at you too." Hermione looked at the floor, and finally told Harry something that he'd not expected in a million years. "Than there are those uneducated people who have been quoted as saying that they're glad you're gone. They believe that if Voldemort was happy at having killed you, he'd leave the rest of the world alone..."

"What!" Harry exclaimed, wide eyed. "I wouldn't be stuck here in this stupid hospital bed if I hadn't flown away from populated areas to save...them!" Harry gritted his teeth in anger. He said the word, 'them,' with so much contempt in his voice, that Hermione was worried in an instant that Harry would eventually become an elitist if he had to deal with callous remarks like these for very much longer.

"Oh, Harry, I wasn't going to tell you, but I didn't want you reading it while we were away and go flying off the handle without someone here to..."

"Talk me down?" Harry said, trying his best not to vent his anger at them. "I should be so used to this by now. All my life, it's all been my fault. Everyone treats me like I wanted this, like I wanted everything horrible thing that's ever happened to me in my life. Well I don't want...I never wanted..."

"Of course not, Harry," Hermione tried to calm him.

"It's a handful of stupid gits, Harry. Most of the wizarding community is in full mourning. It's like royalty died or something. You know the Daily Prophet, they always print the controversial to get papers sold. No one really thinks that, mate. We just wanted to give you the heads up," Ron explained.

After the colour had returned to normal in Harry's face from the anger and hurt he'd been feeling, he knew that he'd been wrong not to have expected this reaction from some people. Last year, he'd had a taste of the prejudice he would probably be enduring for the rest of his life, however long that was to be. Seamus Finnigan's mother wanted her son to "Just stay away from that boy!"

They had now exhausted all topics in regards to recent events, and had offered Harry every consolation they could think of. Although far from resolved, Ron thought maybe Harry would feel better after a game of wizard's chess. Something to take his mind off things. Harry was actually glad he'd lost to Ron. He didn't want him treating him any differently because of his injuries. Ron would never have just let him win, because Harry would see right through it. Harry usually lost, and Ron knew that Harry's sense of pride, rivalled his own. Everything had to be earned.

Hermione declined to play the winner, so Harry and Ron had another game. Harry did more miserably than before. Hermione laughed. "At least we know some things never change," she said, as she knitted freedom hats she forced on the house -elfs of Hogwarts, in order to free them as they picked up in the common rooms.

At one o'clock, Hermione and Ron went for a walk on Professor McGonagall's orders, to give Harry a rest and for them to get some exercise. "One hour," she ordered in a stern manner.

Truthfully, Harry was tired...all the time." He wondered if he'd ever be the same again. "How do you get tired just lying here day in and day out?" he wondered to himself.

"You're looking better Mr Potter, but we must not push ourselves the first time we feel well," she advised. Harry felt far from well, but he did feel like pushing himself. He wanted to get up. He wanted a shower. Professor McGonagall knew cleansing charms, unlike Tonks, and hers worked like, well, a charm. "Aura Eshtetic!" She pointed her wand at Harry, and he felt a warm sensation wash over him. He felt sparkly clean, like he'd spent an hour in the shower. He reached up his hand and felt shiny clean hair, not the greasy mess he'd seen in the mirror.

"Thanks Professor McGonagall," Harry said, very glad that she hadn't sponge bathed him, like a real muggle hospital. That would have been just downright awkward. She handed him the mirror, and he was shocked, feeling quite sure that she had performed some magical healing on him that wouldn't set off too many alarm bells. His hair was now in it's original untidy state, and he was glad of it, being surprised that he had such vanity. His cheek and lip were significantly less swollen, and he had more colour. He was surprised how much he cared about such things.

"You 're most welcome, Mr. Potter. Now rest!" she instructed.

When Hermione and Ron returned, Ron exclaimed, "What, did you have a power beauty sleep, mate?" When it came right down to it, Harry didn't know how to put it. He couldn't say 'Professor McGonagall gave me a bath.' They knew what had happened, Ron just wanted to antagonize him for awhile. "Oh, I thought the lovely and talented Miss Ketchel had come in and sponged you down," He laughed, and Harry threw a small teddy bear at him, a gift from Ginny. Mrs Weasley, to Harry's complete embarrassment, had insisted in placing the small plush bear at the foot of his bed. Ron forgot himself, and made to throw it back at him.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, loudly, darting between Harry and the teddy bear projectile. "You could hurt him!" Ron looked scandalised. Hermione placed the bear on the bedside table.

"I'm not going to break from a plush toy, Hermione," Harry said quietly, realizing now, that Hermione was going to be harder to convince that he was finally getting better than Mrs Weasley would. When a cup of warm broth was brought to him for lunch, she tested the temperature and insisted on helping him drink it. He coughed considerably more than he had with the jell-O, but all in all, he was improving. Ron just shrugged his shoulders, when Hermione went to put their lunch trays on the trolley out in the corridor.

"If you play your cards right, mate, I reckon she'll be your slave for the whole first term, probably do all of your homework for you too."

Ha ha," Harry retorted, "but seriously, Ron, is everyone going to treat me this way?"

"Well, Harry," Ron reasoned. "You know, it's really not that far off from your dream. We did almost lose you. You've only just woken up for real a few days ago after just hanging on in and out of it for weeks... They're just worried, we all are."

Harry needed Ron to stop now. He needed him to be the one to be tough and normal and not worried or doting. Ron realized that and trailed with, "Except of course Fred, George and myself. We know this is all a ploy to win over Cho Chang."

Harry was glad Ron had said it, but he wasn't ready to face Cho after coming back from the dead. By the way she'd acted last year, she'd probably just be mad that it wasn't Cedric who had come back, he concluded. His eyes somehow automatically turned to the plush bear that Ginny had sent to him. He wondered why she hadn't been to see him since he'd awoken.

"What's Ginny doing?" he asked , as casually as he could, and he was surprised at how hard sounding casual was at this point.

"Oh, you know, helping mom keep up at Grimauld Place, and trying to sneak in on things as usual," Ron answered, slightly evasive.

"Oh," was all Harry could manage, feeling very disappointed. Trying, but not succeeding in sounding detached, he added, "Yeah, she's getting very good at that."

"Well, you know, she is the little sister of Fred and George as well, learned everything she could from them." Ron laughed.

"She really wanted to come, Harry..." Hermione added, rejoining the conversation. "But well, you know...she's always had a crush on you."

"Until I fell back to earth last year." Harry said bitterly. Ginny had told him off for sounding too exclusively involved in the fight against Voldemort. She had wanted him to rely on others more than he was prepared to than. There had also been the other arguments they'd had. She wanted into his head, and he wasn't ready to let anyone in. She thought that because she had been ready to talk about what she had gone through at the Dark Lord's hands in her first year at Hogwarts, that he should open up as well. Ginny just could never understand why he was always so determined to be alone, and he had never let it sink in how much it must have cost her to open up to him about what had taken place in the chamber when he had come to her rescue.

Besides the bigger problems Harry had with Ginny, like the fact that she'd had him on a pedestal until last year, he had no idea where exactly he stood with the more grown up Ginny and he didn't even know where he wanted to stand with her. He didn't want that attention that came from a victim, rescuer relationship and now he knew Ginny had more than moved passed that. He didn't know what he wanted. The more he thought about it, the more he was reminded of when Hermione had been so cross with Ron for not realizing that she was a girl, even though she was their best friend. Ron had secretly, or so he thought, harboured feelings of regret over not having asked her to the yule ball ever since.

Out loud though, Harry stuck to his indignance, yet inside he wondered. " Yeah, well, she had me on such a high pedestal, there was no where to go but down," he voiced bitterly, wondering for the life of himself why he cared so much about this.

"It's not that, Harry," Ron defended his sister staunchly, while not trying to go against Harry at the same time. Ron couldn't think of the right words.

Hermione stepped in. "She's cried herself to sleep every night, Harry. The reason she hasn't been here, is that she can't bear to see you all hurting like this, especially given the muggle treatment methods.

Now, Harry felt like a worm. He'd been accusing Ginny of pettiness, and here she was worried sick about him. Ginny was a year behind him in school, but when they'd met on platform nine and three quarters, the only remembrance he had of her in his brief glimpse, was that of a child. He, after all had been a child himself. Harry thought back ,also, to when he'd rescued her from the chamber of secrets when she'd come under Voldemort's power. He'd been her hero. He realized that after this, he'd never really even given her the time of day. She was however his best friend's sister.

"Oh, er...tell her I'm fine," Harry said lamely. He actually missed her. He didn't know why, but part of him hoped that Hermione would pick up on this and tell Ginny, while the other, practical part, the part that knew how much of a danger he was to all of them, fought with his longing for a visit with Ginny. Their past had only ever included her hero worship of him from afar, to his fall from grace, with no middle ground at all. Ron seemed to want to say something, but fought the urge. He had always felt that Harry would be a good match for his only sister, and had dropped a couple of subtle hints to this effect, but Harry had never noticed. Harry could just not see any girl liking him, just for him, not for his past, present or potential future, based on popularity.

"Hopeless...completely hopeless," Hermione shook her head. "The both of you, she added in an undertone. Hermione had been the only one of the trio to have noticed that Ginny had matured into young woman like herself, and even she could catch the too long stares that Harry would give Ginny when he thought she wasn't looking.

Ron and Hermione spent the night considerably more comfortable than the previous. Hermione took the spare bed, and Ron, who usually curled up into a ball to sleep anyway, enjoyed the squashy purple chair.

Stephanie entered the room at seven o'clock the next morning, with three steaming bowls of porridge with treacle syrup and orange juice. "Doctor Green wants you to try something a little more solid today, Harry. He'll be here in a couple minutes. He just wants to be here in case. Here's your medicine. He wants you take it now, so that when you need to swallow, it will be at it's most effective.

Harry hoped all would go well. He was starving, a good sign, everyone assured him. He felt like he was doing a breakfast cereal commercial as he went to take a spoonful, all eyes on him. It went better than expected and Harry finished not long after Ron and Hermione, no coughing, no pain. The orange juice felt wonderful on his long parched pallet. Intravenous fluids keep you alive, but do nothing for thirst he knew all too well.

"Well, I think we can get rid of this for you today," Doctor Green stated, pointing to Harry's intravenous. "Just a little pinch now. He withdrew the long needle from Harry's forearm and Stephanie applied pressure for a moment, bandaging up the site. Harry was glad to see the IV unit wheeled from his room, as he was lectured about drinking lots of fluids now. He knew Mrs Weasley would be pleased and would see to it that he got everything he needed...and more.

Ron, who'd never had a needle in his life, had gone as green as the time his 'eat slugs' curse on Malfoy had backfired on him and he'd spent the entire day vomiting slugs. By the look of him, the furthest thing from Ron's mind was lunch, but Harry was already making mental menus.

At ten thirty, a timid knock was heard on the door. Hermione opened it. Neville stood outside, as if he'd been playing knick knock, and was now seriously contemplating running away. He stepped in looking at the floor, plucking up the courage to look at Harry. Neville looked immensely relieved. He had seen the IV bag and hook up taken from the room, and had imagined that judging by the way the muggle machinery was described to him by none other than Fred and George Weasley, that Harry would not even look human anymore. Before he'd even said hello, he expressed relief, for other than the oxygen mask and the monitors, he still looked like Harry. Harry took Neville's arrival as an excuse to take the mask off. Neville shook hands with him, which turned into a gentle hug.

"It's...It's so good to see you...You can't imagine." But Harry could imagine, and seeing Neville made him look forward to his return to Hogwarts more than ever. He was even looking forward to moving back into the boy's dorms, even thought things had been cool at best with two of his roommates, Dean Thomas, and especially, Seamus Finnigan. Seamus's mother had warned her son about being so close to Harry, who was considered mentally unbalanced by many who read the cheap shots printed in the Daily Prophet last year. Neville had always stood by him.

Harry noticed a change in Neville Longbottom the minute he'd walked into the room. There was, despite his slow entry into the room, a certain confidence about him, which he had not possessed before. He had had his nose fixed to look normal after it had been so cruelly broken by the deatheaters at the Ministry Of Magic last year, and he'd specifically asked the healers not to remove the minuscule scar just beside his nose on the right. It would have been an easy procedure for even the most novice mediwizard, but Harry suspected that he wanted something to show off back at school, and he couldn't begrudge him this, even though he'd wished all his life, that people would quit staring at his.

"You look...good," Neville lied unconvincingly. To everyone who'd seen him two weeks prior, Harry did look better, but to new visitors, Harry was still very pale and sick looking.

"Okay, you look like a hurtin' unit, mate," Ron chimed in, startling Neville out of his awkward predicament. Harry just smiled and shot him a look .

"Yeah, well I just lost a fight with a tree that would rival the Whomping Willow, what's your excuse?" They all laughed, relieving some of the tension. For Harry's sake, they didn't talk about the last time they had all been together. Everyone skirted around Sirius's name, even when it would have been appropriate to say it. Part of Harry was glad of this, but a bigger part needed to talk about it.

"Really you guys...and Hermione," he corrected before she could protest, "It's like there's this huge elephant standing right here in this room with us, and we all see it, but you won't acknowledge it. We can't just forget him...I can't..." Harry did his best to let them know, that by removing Sirius's name from the conversation, they were actually hurting him, not helping. Professor Dumbledore had really known what he was talking about. Harry needed to grieve and he needed to have people who were his true friends to understand this.

Neville had never fully understood the connection between Sirius Black and Harry. After all, Sirius Black had been painted as a criminal, a supporter of Voldemort, who'd killed Peter Pettigrew, a supposed hero, and eight muggles, on the night Harry's parents had been killed. It was not known to the wizarding world at large, that in fact Peter Pettigrew was an unregistered animagus ,who hadn't been killed by Black, but had in fact killed the muggles himself and ran away as a sewer rat, returning to the service of Voldemort, his most loyal, Wormtail.

Neville, like all the wizarding population, had staunchly believed the stories about Sirius Black's involvement in the murders. He had been falsely convicted without trial and had served twelve years for the callous murders in Azkaban, before finally escaping in his animagus form, a large black dog. Professor Dumbledore had become convinced of Black's innocence, and since his escape, members of the Order Of The Phoenix, had come to fully believe his innocence as well. Sirius had even provided his ancestral home as Headquarters Of The Order Of The Phoenix, because it had been such a highly secured place to begin with.

Neville had suspected that Harry had at least been friends with Sirius Black. Now, he was getting an earful of information he'd never dreamed of being privy to, up to and including the fact that Ron's old rat, Scabbers, had been Peter Pettigrew, disguised as a family pet. It didn't take much convincing for Neville to know that his three friends were telling the truth.

"He was your Godfather than?" Neville asked sympathetically. Harry could tell by the look on Neville's face, that he was the one person who could relate to so much loss in so short a life. The complete picture came suddenly to Neville's usually slow mind and he got it. "That Lestrange woman," he gritted contemptuously, "She killed your Godfather...You know, Harry...she was the one who...who..." He didn't know how to put it. His parents weren't dead, but they really weren't here either. Bellatrix Lestrange had put Neville's parents under the cruciatus curse for so long, that they had been permanently damaged.

"I know Neville," Harry said, understanding what Neville had wanted to say. Harry didn't know what was worse. He had to ask himself if he was being selfish to wish that Sirius had been here in St. Mungos, even if he was like Neville's parents, at least he'd be here. "No," Harry decided. Sirius hadn't even liked being cooped up in Grimauld Place for his own protection. The years spent in Azkaban had made him loathe confines of any kind. At least this way, Harry could believe that Sirius was free, on some plain, as Dumbledore believed about death. Somehow, at this point, Harry felt a little sorrier for Neville than for himself.

Neville had never been sympathy seeker. No one had ever known about Neville's parents, except Harry and now of course Ron and Hermione, who had sworn never to tell anyone about them, and to just let Neville talk about it when he was ready. With people like Draco Malfoy at school, no wonder he'd never mentioned them. He would have been even more cruelly mocked than he already was, if anyone found out about the subject of his mentally absent parents to add to the fire of bullying that Neville was always engulfed in. Somehow, though, Harry, Ron and Hermione doubted that Neville would be a human punching bag anymore. He'd become a force to be reckoned with last year. Harry could think of no other student or person for that matter, who could have stood up to those deatheaters as stoically as Neville had done.

It felt good to talk about Sirius in a positive manner, as Harry related to an astonished Neville, all about Buckbeak and Sirius's escape together from the grounds of Hogwarts. Harry felt considerably better filling Neville in on their exploits. The day passed pleasantly with only minor interruption form Harry's doctors, who after examining him thoroughly, suggested he put the oxygen mask back on. "You still have some scar tissue to contend with. Don't strain yourself. A half hour with it off is good to begin with, okay?" Doctor Green suggested. Harry was loathe to admit that he'd been getting sore and burning sensations in his chest again.

"S...sorry Harry, I stayed too long. Ron and Hermione warned me how really weak you were still." Neville stopped talking automatically, as Harry caught Ron and Hermione grimacing.

"I'm not weak!" Harry protested angrily. Ron and Hermione braced themselves for a barrage of arguments that never came.

"Sorry, Harry. They only meant that I shouldn't overtax you." Neville's explanation only made things worse, for Harry had been harbouring a fear that he would never get better, and this proclamation from his friends seemed to confirm this for him. It seemed one step forward, two steps back. He couldn't even breathe properly on his own, and his patience was wearing thin, but Ron and Hermione were only passing on to Neville, what Harry's doctors had told them. Harry needed rest above all else. They were not to encourage him to stay up past his endurance.

"Great! I get my voice back finally, and now I'm not supposed to talk."

"Harry, mate, no one said that," Ron said firmly, but Harry knew that they'd all be leaving soon to go to his 'funeral,' and this was what was really bothering him above all else. He was so full of turmoil about his funeral dream, that any doubt he perceived from his friends regarding his recovery was blown out of proportions. They couldn't blame him for being angry. They had all spent so much time assuring him how well he was doing, while discussing him another light behind his back.

"I suppose you think I'm nuts, too. Heard all about the visit I had from the staff Psycho wizard too, I bet?" Actually this was news to them all. Harry was humiliated, and with good reason. He'd had to endure, 'and how does the death of your parents at such a tender age affect you now?' for two hours, from a person who had no more tact or relation to him than Rita Skeeter. The female psychiatrist had been in to see Harry after he'd had the terrible nightmare, and he'd been too embarrassed to speak about it to anyone.

"Harry, when did this psychiatrist come to see you?" asked Hermione, very concerned.

"On the night I had the dreams, before you and Ron got here. I was afraid she'd still be here when you arrived..." Harry said bitterly. I don't think I'll ever forgive Professor Dumbledore for setting a psychiatrist on me. On one hand he tells me to take the time to grieve, than when I do, this is what he does," he added angrily. "Guess he did what he thought was best, as I'm weak and all," he glared at them.

"Harry, what else did this person ask you.?" Alarm bells were ringing in Hermione's ears. They hadn't been told by anyone that Harry had seen a Psychiatrist.

"I told her I wasn't talking to her," he said flatly. "But it's not as if there's anything I can do about it is there?" he said ruefully. She kept asking me questions about last year. Asking me if I was afraid that Sirius wasn't dead, and that he'd hurt me. I just tuned her out...but than...she..." Harry was simply too humiliated to go on.

"What did she do to you , Harry?" Hermione asked, becoming visibly alarmed.

"I tried to stop her...but I couldn't." Harry looked at his feet. "She took out a mini pensieve and a syringe, and she jabbed it right into my temples. When she took it out, I was all sleepy, like I get in Trelawny's classes. She was like that Rita Skeeter person, only I couldn't stop myself from telling her that sometimes ...sometimes..." Hermione didn't have to ask Harry to finish his sentence. He had always wondered if his parents would be pleased with him, and he'd spent many agonizing hours missing them. Now he'd admitted this to a perfect stranger.

"She said she'd read some of Tyler's pre term work, regarding me. She wanted to know if I thought I was an animagus, and if so, what kind. I was so out of it with whatever she gave me, that I don't know what I said. She got really personal. Okay?" Harry was now very agitated. She was obsessed with Snape's role in saving me, and I don't want him getting any more brownie points on account of me, so I got it together enough to lie outright. I told her that as far as I'm concerned, Snape tried to kill me. I'm not telling anyone my personal life, and if she wants it, than she can read all about it in the Daily Prophet, like everyone else!" Harry's voice was reaching a decibel that would bring attention at any moment "Than she'd get enough on me to keep her gainfully employed for a year, and she can pronounce me nuts, lock me up and throw away the key!" Hermione handed Harry a glass of water as he held his strained throat, tears of humiliation shining in his eyes.

Harry had stopped abruptly. Even in his anger and humiliation, he hadn't wanted to hurt Neville for the world. He'd only wanted to make a point. "I'm sorry Neville...please...I never meant anything by it, but everyone's well...I don't know. Everyone still thinks I'm nuts."

Neville had developed a thick skin. He knew Harry was just lashing out in frustration. He suddenly felt the need to confess something. All of his visits to St. Mungos, had not been for the sole purpose of visiting his parents. "I know all the Psychiatrists here," he admitted. "It was Gran's idea. She said I had no motivation, lacked proper skills and had no direction. She felt I could be helped by these people. Honestly, they're complete nutters themselves. One of them even wears glasses with no lenses at all. Forgets himself all the time and reaches right through them to rub his eyes or something. I may have a bad memory, but I'm no nutter, either, Harry," Neville stated firmly. "So. Who'd you get?" Neville asked in a knowing tone.

"Calisto something...yeah that was the nasty twit's name," Harry remembered bitterly. "Look at this." He now gingerly pushed his hair back from his forehead, to reveal a nasty needle mark in his temple, which now had started to bruise. No one had seen it for all his hair. "She said it would relax me to get me to open up. I even told her about Cho for some reason, and I may have said something about Ginny being pretty or something... but she was mainly interested in my plans for return to school. I told her after I get out of the hospital wing..."

"Harry! That's classified information. She shouldn't have known that," said Hermione, now visibly panicked. Don't you see what's happened?" she cried. "The only one's who know that are the Order and a handful of others here. There's a curse on the secret. Everyone who knows the details, but blabs to anyone, will be automatically stricken deaf and speechless."

"Well that would have been useful information, Hermione...perhaps if someone had told me this before they sicked her on me, I wouldn't have told her, but as I'm weak..."

"Oh, don't be thick, Harry!" she scolded him, as Neville interrupted.

"Calisto...no I've never had her, and I've seen every psychiatrist here," he said sheepishly.

"What else did you tell her," Hermione asked anxiously, as Ron went to fetch Professor McGonagall.

"Everything Hermione," Harry told her, horrified. "That is, I lied a lot to make her leave me alone. It felt like when Moody...you know who I mean...taught us the effects of the imperious curse, and I could fight it somewhat... I was confused, really tired...my head hurt." He reached up to touch the spot and winced as it was still tender. What's going on?" he asked in an uneasy voice, as Professor McGonagall charged in, lifting his hair to have a look.

"What did she look like, Potter?" Professor McGonagall demanded in a harsh tone.

"I...I don't remember. It was dark. She woke me up. I don't know...why? Would someone please tell me what is going on. I didn't mention the psychiatrist because I was too embarrassed, okay!" He was defending himself when he had no need.

"No, not okay, Harry. Your foolish pride may have caused your imposter psychiatrist to avoid capture." she said angrily.

"Fake...What?" Harry was bewildered, especially as to why this was somehow his fault.

"Have Tonks sent in immediately and summon Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape," Professor McGonagall ordered crisply.


	14. Sombre Journey

Within twenty minutes, Order members had been dispatched to hunt down the imposter psychiatrist who had somehow infiltrated the closely guarded facility, and to provide extra security. Many had apparated outside of Harry's door. Tonks could be heard sobbing, "No sir, no one. No one passed into Harry's room. I didn't leave, not for a minute...Is he okay?" She finished, frantically. Tonks had been on shift two days prior when the 'psychiatrist' had entered and left Harry's room without having been detected by her or outside security.

"It has been two days since the imposter psychiatrist questioned Harry and he has shown no ill effects as of yet. He will, of course, be examined for any time released curses or hexes," Dumbledore soothed Tonks, who continued to berate herself for the lax in security on her watch. "You are not to blame, my dear. Ground's security and floor security all reported no unusual activity that evening. Apparating into the boy's room while it is so protected is the work of a very powerful villain. We must be more vigilant. Security must now be stationed in Mr Potter's room. We must make plans for this evening in particular, while so many of us are expected elsewhere." Harry knew that Dumbledore meant his funeral. "Professor Snape will examine the boy to see if the spy learned anything that will be of use to Voldemort." Dumbledore was clearly worried about Harry, but also now about a possible breach of Snape's double identity. If Harry had been forced to divulge information about Snape's role in his rescue, Snape could be in serious peril.

Professor Snape arrived as Dumbledore was pacing the floor. Tonks was beside herself with guilt. She knew Harry's room had been charmed similar to Hogwarts to ward off apparation within the confines of his room, but she still felt she could have done more. She grimaced as Snape entered Harry's room, all the facade of a caring healer that he'd shown falsely to impress the muggles was gone. He looked as though he didn't want to hear what Harry had been through.

Professor Snape's and Harry's eyes met at the moment he first stepped into his room, and Harry was shocked to see that the potions master's robes, so usually neatly pressed and at the height of newness, resembled Lupin's dishevelled appearance. Harry, who once again, found himself in a complete state of overload, looked to Hermione, Ron and Neville for support, after having just brow beaten them for calling him weak. He certainly felt weak now. How had all of this come about, he wondered. He hadn't even gotten a chance to apologize to them for being so sensitive when they were only looking after him. He just wasn't used to anyone caring whether he felt good or not. Now they were being ushered out of his room by Snape, before he could even apologize to them. "We're sorry Harry," Hermione sobbed. "I wish we had made it easier for you to tell us everything. We didn't mean to ignore..." She knew she could not say Sirius's name aloud without Snape taking it out on Harry later, and she knew he was about to endure an invasion of his mind through occlumency anyway, and that had been hard on Harry at the best of times.

Once outside, Ron put his arms around Hermione, "Maybe if we had brought up Sirius ourselves, than Harry would have told us more readily about his encounter with Calisto, the 'psychiatrist,' but now that he thinks we thought him weak, he was too embarrassed to tell us he'd seen a shrink." Before they'd found out that the psychiatrist was a spy, Hermione had honestly felt that Harry would benefit from a little help. Now she felt extremely guilty about that. If it had taken a full two days for Harry to decide that he could tell them something so personal and humiliating, and it had been forced out of him, they all wondered now, how much Harry had suffered without telling them, and what other torments he'd been put through. Ron thought of the needle mark in Harry's temple and knew that he wouldn't have been able to contain himself from telling anyone about the attack if he'd wanted to. Harry was stronger than they had suspected.

Ron, Hermione and Neville tried to listen at Harry's door, willing themselves not to burst in and put a stop to whatever Snape was going to do to him. They heard nothing. Snape was heavy handed from the get go. "Alright Potter. I've been informed that you had an unwelcome visitor the other night. Tell me everything you know."

"I don't remember much...I was sleepy...She just jabbed me with something in the head." Snape flipped Harry's fringe back roughly to examine the mark left by the object. "Once again, you have cheated death, Mr. Potter. You are lucky to be alive. She gave you an evervating potion strong enough to have you up walking, broken legs and all, probably killing you in the process. You're just lucky my sleeping potion was more powerful and kept your metabolism in check. It must have infuriated her," he bragged taking comfort in at least this one thing.

Now that Snape mentioned this, Harry remembered how perturbed the 'doctor' had been that he'd remained drowsy and defiant throughout the interview. "This potion that was administered to you, usually kills when administered into the temple...overstimulates the nervous system. But the dark lord is the one who has to..." Snape caught himself, and Harry was made instantly aware that he knew about the prophecy. But than of course he would...Harry thought.

"Now, concentrate Potter, what did she look like?"

"I told you I don't know," said Harry defiantly, knowing what was coming.

"Professor Dumbledore has asked me to try occlumency to see if you remember anything on a subconscious level," Harry was just too exhausted to be put through this. He felt sick and just wanted to be left alone. He would tolerate no further intrusion. Professor Dumbledore entered the room, taking Harry in with those deep blue eyes.

"Harry, it is for your own safety, and the safety of others," he glanced at Snape, "that we ask you to submit to this."

"You mean I have a choice?" Harry asked, astonished.

"Yes, but I feel that it would be in your best interest." Harry could never resist this old man's subtle persuasion, especially now that he knew for certain that Professor Dumbledore hadn't ordered a psychiatrist for him. Harry had suspected him all along, after all, it had been he who had preached at Harry to let his feelings out.

The door opened again and Tyler came in. "You called for me, sir?" He looked at Snape warmly.

"Yes, Mr. Golden. You may be able to help me retrieve a memory from our Mr. Potter here. You seem to be able to reach this young man in a more gentle fashion than we have been able to. The method will be somewhat similar to what you have been studying for your pre admission lessons, though it would seem, you have already learned a lot about Mr. Potter in this short time."

"Oh, yes sir, Professor Snape," Tyler said eagerly. Harry didn't at all like the easy manner in which Tyler and Snape talked, like he was his favourite student or something. Than a thought occurred to Harry that was almost as bad as the situation itself. What if Tyler was sorted into Slytherin house? Harry was sure to lose his new young friend for good, and what if Tyler told them everything he learned of Harry recently?

Harry actually flinched as Tyler put his hands on his forehead. They seemed locked together in thought immediately, and Harry didn't feel at all at ease when Tyler told him to relax. It was highly disconcerting to Harry, who felt like an outsider listening to a conversation inside his own head, being held by two other people. "Harry, just concentrate on the night of the nightmares, okay?" Snape coaxed as if Harry had a choice. Why was he always so visibly nicer to him when he was in front of Tyler?

For a few agonizing moments, Harry was trapped inside his nightmare about his coffin again, than Tyler called to him. "It's alright, Harry, come out and leave that alone. You were sleeping after the nightmare, than what?" Tyler read. WHAM! Blinding pain in the right side of Harry's head in the temple, which caused Professor Snape and Tyler both to cry out in pain, almost losing the connection.

"Veratiserum and an adrenalin mix potent enough to kill a boy your size," Snape muttered, still sounding pained. As Snape's eyes took in the dark figure in Harry's memories, he shifted uncomfortably. Harry could more than sense that he knew her, but he'd expected casual recognition from his past, not the heavy loathing from Snape's mind causing everything else to blur. Snape was visibly scared now. The connection lost, he looked like he was going to grab Harry by the collar, but held himself in for Tyler's benefit alone. "Did she see...What did you tell her boy? Did you blow my..." he blustered.

"Professor Snape," Tyler soothed, as though he, a newcomer, knew everything Dumbledore had taken all these years to tell Harry about Snape's past and present, "Harry denied it." Tyler didn't say why Harry hadn't praised all that Snape had done. That Harry felt him untrustworthy, remained a secret between he and Tyler. Snape was not nearly as good as Tyler at occlumency, at least not on Harry. "He protected you, sir...said you hadn't saved him. Said you would have been glad if he'd lost his legs." Snape's shoulders relaxed with relief and he didn't seem to care that Harry knew how scared he was. "All she learned by coming here, is that Harry's not dead, and they knew that already. They now know that he's going back to the school on September the first.. She was furious that she hadn't gotten more, but Harry stood firm."

Tyler had sensed from the beginning that Snape and Harry needed a mediator and he had gotten the unlucky job. They were finished. Snape swept from the room saying more for Tyler's benefit, "Good work, Potter." By the looks on everyone's faces, they were all relieved. It was ironic that once again, it had been Snape's potion that had saved Harry life, as well as his own. Harry now realized that Snape was much harder to read than before, perhaps because he was so tired, or perhaps because Snape had practised with Tyler. Tyler was sure to replace Malfoy in pet position at school. The Slytherins would have a fit, particularly if Tyler wasn't one of them. It would be just Harry's luck to have a new friend taken away from him by becoming a Slytherin.

"I don't even know if I'm to be sorted," Tyler stated , as if in answer to Harry's fears. "I'm kind of temporary, besides, Harry, you're my friend, one of my first," Tyler admitted. "You're the only one besides mom and dad, and now a few others who know about my...well I don't even know...difference."

"I feel so stupid. I didn't even know she was fake. Everyone's been treating me so differently since all this started. The people who say they believe me, I think they think I'm nuts. That was what was so nice about you. You liked me for me. They just don't get it. I just feel like I want to be left alone. Nobody tells me the truth, they talk over me, not to me.." Harry was getting all worked up again.

"Harry, do you trust me?"

"What do you mean, Tyler?"

"Just do you trust me, yes or no?" Tyler looked hurt when Harry had to pause to think about his answer. He just felt shaky and hurt, and like he couldn't trust anyone. Now that he shuddered, knowing a death eater had been in his room, he knew he couldn't trust even in his own safety, under the watch of people who were supposed to be protecting him. He didn't have the heart to blame Tonks. She had left in tears, contemplating her resignation from The Order Of The Phoenix. Ron and Hermione stood outside his door, feeling thoroughly chastised for being, in Harry's opinion, two faced, and poor Neville had left with his Gran screeching at him for being late to get ready for his funeral, which she believed was real. Neville was true to his word, and didn't break his promised secret, but he'd left, hurt to the heart. He blamed himself for causing a rift between Harry, Hermione and Ron. He decided it would have been better for Harry if he'd remained an outsider.

His remembrance of his moment of glory at the Ministry at Harry's side last year, now thoroughly over, Neville left and Hermione and Ron felt a certain amount responsible for the misunderstanding. Neville seemed his old slumped self as he trudged off with his Gran, looking for all the world that he was indeed attending a funeral. Everyone was completely miserable, and each one harboured a guilt that they had caused the hurt. The stress level that had risen to intense levels since the security breach had been revealed. No one seemed to know whom to blame or what to do.

Professor McGonagall had entered the room as soon as Snape had left, new security protocol. Harry would have no privacy from now on. She did not, however, interrupt Tyler's and Harry's conversation.

"Yes, I trust you," Harry finally decided.

"Well than you should know Harry, you're acting like an prat. Ron and Hermione were just trying to protect you. "Yes," he said, holding up his small hand, "they called you weak, but they meant for now, not forever...and you are Harry, weak I mean, so you'd better get used to people trying to protect you. They don't mean weak in your mind. Very few people could have survived what you did this past month alone, let alone what's happened to you your whole life." Harry had been so busy feeling put out, that he hadn't stopped to consider that everyone else was tired and worried too. He was sick of being here, poked and prodded and pitied. He had been glad when Ron and Hermione had finally started to treat him normally, only to find out they had thought him weak. He had been sensitive to weakness ever since he'd been attacked by Dementors, but now this child of eleven, was starting to make sense.

"Is Neville okay? He looked pretty bad when he found out about the fake shrink."

"Yet another lack of consideration on your part Harry," Tyler told him, though gentle in his tone. "Neville's parents are here too. A security breach on you, is a security breach to the whole hospital, you know? Since you've been here, anyone who knows you're alive and here, has been worried. Everyone is at an increased risk, not just you." Now Harry was reminded of the time Uncle Vernon had tried to kick him out because of the Dementor attack. Wherever he went, there would always be innocent victims in the wake of any attack on his life. Even Tyler had narrowly escaped injury by Voldemort himself, in his quest for Harry, yet here he stood, ready to help Harry, despite knowing more about Harry's destiny than almost anyone else.

"Neville's never told anyone before tonight, about the fact that he sees psychiatrists on a regular basis, because he was embarrassed too, Harry, so it's not your fault. It's natural not to want to share these things, especially in your situation.

"I'm sorry, Tyler, I'm sorry to everyone, but what am I supposed to do? I wanted to run away from everyone years ago, so they wouldn't get hurt, but everyone wants me to stay, even though they know it's dangerous. I'm not cursed, I'm a curse, period. I'm dangerous to be around. Mom and Dad, Cedric and Sirius and I don't know how many more who were appointed to look after me, died because of me.

"No, Harry, not because of you, because of Voldemort. You blame yourself. No one else does, mate." Tyler sounded like Ron now.

"How do you know all this, Tyler?" Harry was astounded how much Tyler knew in such a short time.

"I've been working with Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore and your friend Hermione leant me loads of books. You're in a lot of them, actually." Harry couldn't suppress his smile. Of course Hermione would take a new student under her wing. He suddenly felt a new warmth for Ron and Hermione. They were so accepting. After all, Tyler, and especially Harry, were as different as they come.

Harry now realized, with regret, that he'd been hard on Hermione and Ron since last year, when he had endlessly berated them for keeping secrets on Dumbledore's orders. He realized that he had been unfair, but they had endured his endless tirade of accusations of them not doing as much as he had done and the like, with understanding that he had never shown to them.

"I'm to blame if you want to know, Harry." Tyler told him, looking like he was ready for a well deserved lash of anger, and looking puzzled when it didn't come. "I...I accidentally left my notes on you in the tea room, but I was really tired that night when I spent the whole day with you. I tried to stay up all night, to help get ready to help you with your occlumency like Professor Dumbledore asked me to. When my mom came to see where I was, she sent me straight off to bed, and I must have forgotten them there. I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to let you down." Harry wasn't mad, he couldn't be, taking in the small boy who was so sincerely trying to help him. He was however feeling very awkward. He had hoped that he and Tyler's friendship could have been based on just normal things. Now the boy had been dragged into Harry's complicated life. Tyler looked at the floor. "That's how she knew that you were going back to school on the first of September. I blew it."

"Add Tyler to the list of "it's all my fault," Harry grumbled. "You know who's fault this all is? Voldemort's. If we can't keep it together here, how are we going to fight him when he comes for me? I can't keep it together, Tyler, look at me. I'm broken, and yeah weak," Harry said resignedly. "I can't do this anymore Tyler. I'm tired, and I can't watch them all die anymore, one by one. I think that's why I get so mad at them. They should run as far away from me as they can. Maybe if I treat them really shabbily from now on, they 'll just leave me. It would be for the best."

"That's not what you want. It's what you fear the most." Tyler informed him.

"No" Harry lied, " How did you know that?" He finally admitted.

"I just do , Harry. There's not much I don't know. I didn't mean to pry, but when you were really sick, almost dead, you couldn't hold anything back, like you do when you're well. I was only trying to help you..." Tyler explained in haste, seeing the uncomfortable look creep over Harry's pale features. Harry never made it a habit to tell anyone anything unless absolutely necessary. "Your thoughts were pouring out along with your life. I swear to you, Harry, I will never tell anyone your feelings. That's your job, and I'll never write anything down concerning your private thoughts that I got that night. I knew you couldn't control them pouring out. If you weren't in such bad shape, I would have let you be, but I had to hold onto you. I think I know you better than you know yourself, which is why I'm not mad about the way you treated your friends. You're hurt, they know that. They know they should have told you the truth, but they were trying to protect you. You've got to accept it, they love you."

Now Harry knew he'd blown it.

"Have they gone yet?" Harry turned and asked Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, Harry. They left five minutes ago. They're expected at the...your services."

"Professor Dumbledore's still going through with that?" Harry asked incredulously. "I would have thought that spy would have ruined the secret."

"Voldemort cares not what other people think. He has known the truth about you being alive all along. The only information he will have gained out of that little venture, was that you are to return to Hogwarts on September the first, and of course, he now has confirmation of your whereabouts. As your relatives have visited regularly, the protective charms in place while you're under their care, remain somewhat in tact, but not as whole as we had hoped. It will still be a very good travel security, not having flocks of newspaper reporters and onlookers at your departure for school, as the wizarding world at large still believes you dead. The fewer people who know, the easier the trip will be."

A little peace and privacy was what Harry craved now the most, but he wished he could have apologized to Ron, Hermione and Neville before they'd gone. He wondered how they'd fair faking sadness for him when they were probably furious with him. Now he was really sorry.

Sensing Harry's angst, Tyler reassured him. "They know you're frustrated, Harry. They won't hold it against you."

"I hope you're right," Harry said flatly, though only moments before he had been thinking of dismissing them from his life outright for their own protection.

Professor McGonagall was replaced by Kingsley Shaklebolt, an auror whom Harry had met as part of his escort to Grimauld Place last year. Professor McGonagall bade Harry goodbye rather awkwardly. As head of Griffindor House, she would certainly be expected to attend the funeral. She had usually dressed in robes of tartan or emerald green. Now, she wore mourning robes and she kissed Harry on the forehead gently, just beside his scar before leaving, while taking an unusually long gaze of his face, like she may never see him again. When she left, Harry thought she looked like she was attending a real funeral.

Now that the time for the funeral had finally arrived, Harry felt his need for privacy changed to a need for company, and he was glad that Tyler had offered to stay. Horrible images from his dreams crept into his mind every time he closed his eyes to rest them from stinging feeling that had started since everyone had left.

Kingsley Shaklebolt was very rigid in checking Harry's caregivers to see if they had clearance. Even Doctor Green had to answer questions he was ill prepared for. After all, he'd been filled in on only ever so slightly as to who this boy he was treating for the past three weeks was. This was for his protection as well as Harry's. Doctor Green could barely keep his eyes off of Shaklebolt's large stature.

"Right than, Harry, you seem slightly more wheezy this afternoon. Your friends informed me you'd overdone it a bit, but you'll rest for the night, right?" Doctor Green asked this as if it were more of an order than a request as he replaced his stethoscope around his neck.

"Right," Harry grumbled. He defiantly crossed his arms across his chest to resemble a corpse lying in a coffin and closed his eyes firmly.

"Very funny," Doctor Green smiled. " Your Professor Snape has prescribed this for you." He handed Harry a smoking vial of potion. Harry was going to decline, but Tyler eagerly informed him that he had helped Snape make it. Harry felt he owed it Tyler to show some faith in him, so he drank the heavy warm liquid, and the aroma of it, neither good or bad, filled all his senses, and his very veins. Soon after, Tyler said goodnight, though it was only afternoon.

Harry now found that he wasn't at all worried...about anything...anymore. He even had a certain fondness for Snape all of a sudden, and didn't complain about having been ordered to keep his oxygen mask on for the rest of the day. In the back of his mind, he knew he had been sedated, he just didn't care. He fell asleep more comfortably and peacefully than he had ever done in his life and he knew no more.

Ron and Hermione arrived at Platform nine and three Quarters with the rest of the Weasleys. They nodded to Neville and his Gran. Neville would have much preferred to join them, but Gran had reminded him, that as Harry's closest friends, they would be seated with family. Neville felt so left out, and Ron and Hermione shot him looks of regret that he couldn't join them. After all, had this been real, Neville surely belonged with them. He had risked his life for Harry.

To everyone's complete surprise, a nervous Dudley Dursley stood between Professor Lupin and Moody. Hermione approached. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"Your teacher, Dumbledore asked me to come. Asked my mom and dad to keep up their story about a car wreck to the neighbours. They couldn't come," Dudley whispered back nervously.

"Oh, well, it's good of you to come,...OUCH!" Ron had elbowed her. After all, Dudley was still considered on probationary good behaviour in his opinion.

"Hermione! Don't be a traitor," he whispered. "Harry wouldn't like us fraternizing with the enemy."

"Ron, if Harry ever has to go back with the Dursleys, it'd be nice for a change for him to have an ally. If we're nice to him, he may be nice to Harry for a change next time, she reasoned.

Everyone's jaws dropped, as a flag draped coffin was carried by Fred and George Weasley, Professor Snape, and by sudden request, Neville Longbottom. Gran made her way to the remaining cars alone, but what made Ron and Hermione really freaked out, was the fact that the remaining two pol bearers, were unknown to them. A young man with long black hair and a woman of similar age to their own, also with black hair.

They had thought they were prepared to attend the funeral, but the sight of an actual casket being carried by six, was more unnerving than they could have ever imagined. Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore and Lupin followed the procession. The doors of the new black train compartment that had been added to the Hogwarts Express, closed, but not before Ron and Hermione saw many figures inside. Hermione felt sick as reporters took pictures of the empty casket and chased it all the way until it had been placed in the casket car.

Ron and Hermione sat in the new grey train car ahead of the casket car. Just when they were about to ask each other where Hagrid was, they heard a motorcycle start up. Perched on Sirius Black's bike, was none other than Hagrid. Hagrid had had possession of Sirius's bike all these years, and Sirius had left it officially to him in his will. Hagrid was neater in appearance than they'd ever seen him, wearing robes of black. They had never seen Hagrid dressed in wizard's robes before. He had always just worn very large scruffy work clothes. Under the robes they saw that Hagrid was wearing robes similar to Snape's usual attire, only ten times larger. Had it been appropriate at this time, Hermione would have complimented Hagrid on his attire. In honour of Harry, Hagrid wore the Griffindor colours on an armband, which showed only when his robes blew back in the wind, which had begun to howl through the open tunnels of Platform nine and three quarters.

Suddenly there was a commotion behind them as they had been turned to look at Hagrid, and Hermione heard Ron exclaim, "No bloody way!" he shouted angrily, taking out his wand and pointing it behind Hermione.

"Ron, don't, put it away! Don't cause a scene," Hermione pleaded, getting in his way.

"Hermione, please move, or I'll move you," came Ron's rattled reply.

Hermione was so shocked at his threat, that she too drew her wand. "I don't want to Ron, but Dumbledore warned us that Malfoy would come to gloat. I'll knock you cold if I have to. Get a grip before they get here. We're supposed to be grieving. You know I can do it, you haven't beaten me all summer in our practices together. Ron forced his indignant anger back down to the pit of stomach, where it remained uncomfortably,...and there he was, Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, all wearing their dress robes, like they were attending a party.

Ron's face was contorted in anger. He pronounced every syllable of every word singularly. "I...swear...Hermione...if he makes one move to disrupt the service, or insult Harry...I will ...you know what I will, Hermione," he breathed like a hiss.

"Okay, Ron, now just put it away," she grabbed his hand and gently lowered it , speaking to him like she was talking him down from a ledge.

"Sorry, Hermione. I would never hurt you..please..." Ron actually hugged her instead of the other way around.

"I know, Ron. I know," and they let go of the embrace at the same time.

"Well, at least that looked convincing," he stated blushing, profusely, as they saw Draco and his cronies take their seats in the car ahead of them.

"Yeah, good one," she stammered.

"But, Hermione, if this had been for real..."

"Than you'd have had to get in line," she finished for him.

"Boy, they say funerals and weddings..." Ron said. Percy Weasley had been told that Harry had died after his interference. He had not been told the truth, nor had he been back to work at the Ministry of magic. The wizarding community believed that Harry had died at midnight, just moments after his sixteenth birthday, at the hands of Voldemort through his tornadoes.

Ron almost felt sorry for him. Percy was the only Weasley who didn't know that Harry was alive. He had known that Harry had survived the tornadoes, but he believed he had been responsible for finishing him off. Percy was pale and thinner than ever, but he was dressed immaculately. His mourning robes hung rather loosely than they should have. Percy had no reason to possess garments like these before, meaning that from the time he had gotten them, which could have been no more than three days before, he'd lost even more weight.

Ron was glad Mrs. Weasley hadn't seen Percy yet. Percy had arrived like a regular student, not a returning hero the way he would have thought it would be like. He faced an enquiry for his work ethics in three weeks time. It had been determined pre trial, that he would not be charged with accessory to murder, for he had been following direct orders from the Minister for magic himself.

The ministry of Magic had become a clearing house since the death of Harry Potter, and the admitted fact that Voldemort had indeed returned. In fact, even the minister for magic himself, Cornelius Fudge, had been called into question. There had been hundreds of firings and with each one, the line of inaction, pointed up more and more to the top leaders as was usual with any honest enquiry performed to enact real change and not merely just placate the public. No, this was a finger pointing, heads-will-role inquiry.

At the same time, many honest, hard working witches and wizards had been promoted. Percy had watched his peers move on to positions which he had once been sure he would attain. Judging by the way he looked, he didn't care about these things anymore. Gone was the air of arrogance and annoying superiority, replaced by head down. Look-at-no-one posture.

Presently, the rest of the Weasley clan, including Bill and Charlie, who's employers had given them a week off with pay to pay their last respects to the most famous wizard of his time...or any time in the century for that matter.

Everyone was aboard, including former alumni, Oliver Wood, previous captain of the Griffindor Quidditch team, among others too numerous to mention. For the first time in her life, Hermione had lied to her parents. Mr. And Mrs Granger were among the muggles in attendance. They knew about Voldemort, but only as 'he who must not be named.' they understood the danger Harry had been in and had been proud along with worried sick about their daughter's safety since she had been one of Harry's best friends. They were not told of Hermiones's pledge to the death to protect Harry, but than Harry did not know of this either. Her parents hadn't known Harry well, but they grieved for him. He had befriended their muggle born daughter, and even they knew how special the friendship had been. Harry had never known that Hermione had suffered the same fears he had harboured, that she would not make friends at Hogwarts when she had first found out she was a witch.

The Hogwarts express pulled out from platform nine and three quarters in a slow steady steam. It was not the usual exuberant ride with the students greeting one another up and down the train. They had seen Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinet and Katie Bell, all hugging Oliver Wood and Lee Jordan, the Quidditch commentator, who had a distinct preference for Griffindor . The girls had burst into tears simultaneously. Harry had been the Griffindor Seeker for years and a good friend to them all. If Harry could see this, he'd have forgiven Captain Angelina Johnson for being so hard on him as she had been last year when he'd missed practices during his many detentions with Professor Umbridge.

The last person to have boarded the train in a most self redeeming, but sincerely sorrowful way, was Professor Trelawny. Ron would have loved to be the one to tell her that Harry was still alive. The bespeckled Divination teacher had boarded the coach followed just behind by her adoring students, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. They could be heard sobbing. "You knew it all along. Oh poor Harry!" Hermione just rolled her eyes. She had never been a fan of Divination class, feeling it to be nothing more than a sham.

Since everyone in Ron and Hermione's coach knew the truth, and they could not be overheard, conversation turned to security and intelligence on Voldemort's whereabouts since he had been in the Ministry of Magic. Obviously, since one of Voldemort's most trusted servants, Bellatrix Lestrange had paid Harry a visit in disguise, posing as a psychiatrist, the dark lord still did not have all the answers he needed. Clearly though, he knew somehow that he had to kill Harry himself, or else Harry would have been dead already, despite all of his friends heroic efforts. Bellatrix was more than capable, but Voldemort would take no more chances. It had to be a clear chance with no chance of failure. He could not afford to be defeated again, even in a small way.

Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle thought they'd start having fun right away. They had the nerve to sit in the same coach as Cho Chang and the Griffindor Quidditch team. They were not as brave as they had planned on being. Since no one in the school knew exactly what had killed Harry, although most believed the tornado story, the Slytherin goons planned to act like they'd received information, and paint Harry as having died in a cowardly way, even giving up to die instead of fighting to the end, but all they managed to do was to make everyone even more profoundly sad about Harry's untimely passing.

"Yeah, it's too bad, eh Finnigan? How Harry died with the two of you on the outs..." came a taunt from Crabbe, who until now had no mouth of his own to use. Seamus just hung his head sadly, full of regret for his ill use of Harry last year. Everyone was shocked about the nerve of Harry's enemies having even had the guts to attend, but no one expected Gregory Goyle's outburst. Usually Malfoy's cronies merely served as protection for him, but now it seemed, Goyle, at least, found a voice of his own.

"Oh, and Cho," Malfoy smirked maliciously, "You should think about dating someone a little more durable, like me for example. People are going to start thinking you're a black widow what with poor Cedric gone and now Potter." Cho dissolved into tears.

"Imagine how he must have suffered. Torn limb from limb like that..." Crabbe finished, in a mock empathetic tone, pretending to have the gruesome details of Harry's death.

CRACK! The three Slytherins were stuck together in a kind of cord. They could not speak, and they struggled uselessly against the cords that bound them. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Oliver Wood called for order in the car, promising to see to it personally that these undesirables did not attend Harry's funeral.

The last week of August, usually a week of happy meetings in Diagon Alley, shopping for school supplies and meeting up with old friends, was the most bitter time any of them had ever known.

Hagrid landed silently behind the stopped train in the village of Hogsmeade. The pol bearers carried the casket to a black horseless carriage. All of the many people who had been in the casket car, also transferred into the black carriage, and the door was closed before anyone could get a good look at any of them. Ron and Hermione felt strangely aware of Harry's presence, perhaps because Hogwarts had always been Harry's home. Even though they knew Harry was alive, it was heartbreaking to pull up to the gates of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry without him, and sure enough, Hermione began to sob.

Hermione stopped crying abruptly and uttered, "OH, Ron Look!" She was pointing at the front of coaches. Both of them saw them at once, what Harry had told them about last year. There were real creatures...of some sort, pulling the coaches. Skeletal in appearance, and visible only to those who have witnessed death, the Thestrals stood before them.


	15. Nearer But Further

As Ron and Hermione exited the carriages that had just pulled up to Hogwarts for Harry's funeral, looking at the thestrals, they heard a familiar voice float toward them. "I told you," Luna Lovegood's voice hummed out matter-of-factly, watching Ron and Hermione's expression at seeing the thestrals for the first time. They were annoyed that she wasn't wearing mourning robes. "That the carriages were pulled by real creatures," she finished, not at all catching the annoyed looks upon their face.

"Oh, I was hoping to avoid her just now," Ron stated with regret as Luna approached them.

"Why are you two in mourning? You know Harry's not dead." She dropped this bombshell on them. "Oh yes, you two still subscribe to the Daily Prophet. Of course my father's newspaper has already revealed the truth." She handed them a picture on the front cover of the Quibbler, a known tabloid, with the headline. HARRY POTTER NOT DEAD, CLINGS TO LIFE IN SECRET LOCATION IN LONDON. Hermione's eyes popped as she turned the page to see a full colour moving picture of "Harry" minus legs! His chest moved gently up and down with breaths from a completely covered mouth and nose. They knew at once it wasn't Harry, but it certainly was an uncanny likeness from what they could see.

"Luna..." Hermione began gently.

"Don't bother Hermione. Carry on like we're supposed to, and don't worry Ron. Even if Harry was..." She gestured a knife slit across the throat, indicating death, he'd go on. They wait for us, you know. I've seen them...in a mirror once." Luna patted the thestrals just as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and climbed into a coach with a wave of her hand. "See you after the service."

"Ooooooh...She is so creepy!" Ron shivered as though trying to shake her off.

"You know what? She's growing on me," Hermione decided. "She may have a lot to offer the DA, if we can figure out what she's on about half the time. Anyway, those pictures just seal up the fact that Harry's dead. Everyone knows the Quibbler's full of rubbish.

"Do you really think Harry'll want to start up the DA again?" Ron asked, hopefully.

"I expect so. I mean it wouldn't have to be secret anymore. I think Harry actually started to enjoy himself a bit, sharing his abilities, once he learned to relax a little. He should've considered becoming a teacher."

"Yeah," said Ron darkly, sharing a fear he'd had for three weeks, "I hope he heals well enough to choose whatever he wants. He's had his mind set on being an auror and he's really rough right now..."

"When Voldemort's gone, maybe we won't need aurors anymore." Hermione tried to sound bright.

"Yeah, but I think there'll always be need for aurors. Vodemorts's not the only dark wizard to come along." Ron had always wanted to be an auror as well, though out of the three of them, he felt he possessed the least amount of necessary skills for the job. He had pictured them together as a great team, though Hermione had no intentions of becoming an auror. Now he wondered if any of them would live long enough to have a career.

As they entered the great hall and Ron looked at the casket once more, he wondered if one day soon he would be attending Harry's funeral for real, and that would mean that Voldemort's retrieval of his powers would be imminent. He hadn't really thought of this when he'd made his pledge to The Order Of The Phoenix, but now it came to it, if Harry died, he wanted to be the one beside him. He realized now that even if Harry died, this may not come to pass, for he was not there when Harry was terrified, dying in the woods... "He's not going back to those Dursley's next summer!" Ron exclaimed aloud, in answer to his own private thoughts. Now thoroughly sombre at his resolutions, and Hermione sobbing real tears, they made their way into the great hall filled with genuine sorrow.

Everyone was assembled waiting for Dumbledore to begin the service. All was quiet, save for the soft, controlled sobs, which could be heard echoing quietly in the hall. Suddenly, the large oak doors opened just wide enough to admit Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Oliver Wood, who gestured apologetically around at the mourners, taking the seats nearest available. They were extremely dishevelled and covered in superficial cuts and bruises. Seamus nodded to Ron some sort of affirmation which Ron did not understand, as he had not witnessed the display of the three Slytherins in the next train car. This was likely a good thing, as Ron could never have controlled himself had he heard the terrible things the Slytherins had said about Harry. Ron knew he would have to overcome his over protectiveness of Harry, once the truth had been revealed, and since he'd already been caught red handed for calling Harry weak.

Hermione's genuine grief didn't surprise him, but he felt strangely uncomfortable. Mrs Weasley gestured for him to comfort her. He gingerly put his arm loosely around her shoulders. When she buried her head in his chest, he almost let go in shock. Being considerably taller than Hermione, he bent down to look in her swollen red eyes. "Hermione? Are you okay?" he asked nervously. He didn't know what to say, so he just offered her a tissue from the pocket of his robes. "Hermione, it's okay," he tried to sooth.

"No it isn't, Ron." she sniffled, apparently having some of the same misgivings he had just endured. The difference was, she had just mentally buried Ron with Harry. She could not bear to lose her two best friends, yet in this uncertain climate, this was a distinct possibility. She finally figured out, that having taken the same oath as Ron, they would probably all be killed together, and for some reason, the thought comforted her.

Professor Dumbledore stood up to a podium, and as everyone turned to focus their attention on him, Ron noticed Dennis and Collin Creevy, sitting on the opposite side of the hall. They both looked positively sick. Ron felt guilty for putting them all through this grief, though it had never been his idea.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have gathered together on this most grief filled night. The young man on whose very life we have found hope, has been killed. In every funeral speech, one tries to find something positive from the tragedy, but in all my long years, I have not witnessed the destruction of ones so young, until these last years. I speak not only of our friend and student, but our family." He looked significantly at Dudley, who sat in the front row, paying rapt attention. Dumbledore held Dudley in a prolonged gaze for a full moment.

Ron and Hermione were shocked at how much of the details of Harry's fight for life, Dumbledore now gave out. He related about the tornadoes and how Harry had risked his own life to save muggles, and even about his medical care by the muggles, which Dumbledore had told the assembled mourners, had failed. It was strange indeed to see Dumbledore lie, for the old headmaster had kept secrets from them before, but lying seemed almost painful for him, especially on such a large scale.

"A horrific and treacherous crime against one so young, may have in fact become Voldemort's downfall. Many in the crowd, cringed at the sound of Voldemort's name, especially now that the boy who lived...had died at the hands of the Dark Lord. Yes, Dumbledore did at least tell them that it had been Voldemort that had caused all the destruction. "Because here we sit, united, the entirety of Hogwarts, muggle relations and of course some guests who met Harry Potter through the Tri Wizard Tournament of two years ago. We are fellowshipped in grief and dismay and even fear, but we are together, something that Voldemort will find will work against him."

"If one looks at the way in which Harry Potter lived his life, they will discover an outstanding degree of tolerance and acceptance. His friends included pure bloods, and non pure bloods alike, as well as muggles, squibbs and giants. Harry knew what it was to be different and singled out." Many in the crowd shifted uncomfortably, having at one time or another had secret mean spirited thoughts about the boy who bore the scar from Voldemort but had not died. "Many of you will never forget the first time you laid eyes on this young man, yet Harry did not hold it against you for singling him out, pointing and staring. This taught him something very important, therefore, he endeavoured to see inside people, to find out who they were on the inside before judging."

"We are at war, and the one who drew Voldemort's focus is now dead, but he need not have died in vain if we can put aside our differences and unite to remember a young man who exemplified all the qualities that Hogwarts strives to instil in all our students who pass through these halls," Dumbledore stopped for a minute to stare at the Slytherins who had gathered to watch the funeral unfold, "than we can unite permanently. If we stand united to fight even to our own end, than this young man will not have died without purpose."

"Usually funerals are a time to forgive and reflect, and in all my years I have never advised holding on to bitterness, but we have all tasted the bitterness and we should not forget, lest our guards be dropped."

Ron and Hermione had expected a sombre ceremony, but this funeral was quickly becoming a call to arms. "Harry possessed qualities not common in boys of his age. He did not live in the moment like so many do. Instead, he thought of the greater good. He was kind to animals.." At this, Pansy Parkinson turned to Ginny and sneered, 'woof woof,' as Dumbledore continued "...and conscious of our frail environment. In his short life of only sixteen years, he accomplished more than most wizards do in a lifetime. He did battle bravely on more than one occasion with the most evil force our history remembers, and won, until he could fight no more."

"Many of you, Harry's fellow students were first star struck with Harry, until you found out that he was just like yourselves, flesh and blood, with plenty to learn and teach. Eventually most of you came to see him as just another student, while others." he looked at the Slytherins in particular, "were quick to point out his differences and torment him through his difficult times. Most of the Slytherins, but not all, nodded in sad regretful agreement, feeling that they all had contributed to Harry's misery in life. There were only the staunch few, no doubt in league with Malfoy and his gang, who remained staunchly unmoved, probably attending only out of morbid curiosity.

As Dumbledore continued on with Harry's many accomplishments, Professor McGonagall sniffled loudly as he pointed out that Harry had been the youngest seeker in a century. She too, knew that at any day at all, this could be real. When Dumbledore spoke directly about Harry's two best friends, Ron and Hermione were reminded of the few untroubled times they had all shared. Some of the things that had been downright scary in the moment, now seemed funny in the safety of the present, like the mountain troll conquer they had been party to. They could not, however long into the future it would become, think that what was happening now would ever become an amusing story for their grandchildren. They were now, each of them, wondering if there would be any happy stories to the grandchildren. Would any of them live long enough to have grandchildren?

It was just as Harry had pictured it would be in his nightmare. A grave by the lake. It was an unusually cold summer evening. Hermione shivered in the cool breezes blowing in from the lake, and Ron wrapped his cloak around her shoulders, leaving his arm around her, as they stood next Harry's grave. It was just too real. Ron shivered too, though he wasn't at all cold.

"At this time, I call for a moment of silence to reflect on the ultimate sacrifice Harry James Potter made for us all. His life was marked, but had he the heart of a coward, he would have lived longer on this earth in peace. Instead he chose to live as a hero, out in the open facing his destiny with courage and bravery beyond what one could reasonably expect from a seasoned warrior." For a brief moment, it seemed possible that the prophecy would be made known to everyone, but Dumbledore stood solemnly at the grave, head bowed for the moment of silence. To mark the end of the moment of silence, the Hogwarts bell chimed sixteen times, once for every year of Harry's life. "You may linger here to pay your respects to Harry, before coming inside to the reception, while our Mr. Filch will see to the burial arrangements.

After the bells had chimed for the last time, Ron and Hermione felt strangely odd and unable to just walk away from the grave site and casket. They knew very well that the casket was just for effect, but Harry's presence seemed so very strong to them. They felt anxious, almost panicked to get back to St. Mungos to see him and make sure he was alright. If Harry could have known how upset and worried they'd become for no good reason, other than a vague feeling of ultimate dread, he'd have known too, that they'd forgiven him his unkind words, and far from never wanting to see him again like he now feared, would have given anything to be with him right now in the flesh.

They walked back up to the school behind the others mourners by a good distance. "Do you feel it?" Ron asked tensely, looking around as though at any moment something might pop up and grab them. Ron even saw Ginny stare uneasily back toward the mock grave and she seemed about to turn around and go back, but was ushered on inside the castle by her parents.

"Yeah...something...but not a danger...just...him, Harry," Hermione answered timidly and tentatively, not wanting to sound mad as Ron always accused her of being.

"Me too, but he's safe with Kingsley Shaklebolt and the loads of other Order members. He must be okay," Ron reasoned, not even convincing himself.

"I know you're right, but I can't wait 'til this is all over and we can go back to St. Mungos and see him with our own two eyes...four eyes...you know what I mean." Hermione said sounding very frazzled.

"I may even hug the big nut," Ron mused. "It's just weird, you know. It's like you can almost feel him."

"Well, we've known Harry for most of our lives. It stands to reason there's more to us than just face to face speech. It's like I feel him too somehow. But they say it's not that unusual, in the book called 'face to face, mind to mind," that a telepathy of sorts can occur in people who have shared life threatening situations and survived, and well we've..." she trailed off.

"And you believe what Gilderoy Lockhart said in that book after all we've learned about him?" Ron asked incredulously. "I have one hole in your theory, Hermione. We didn't help Harry when he was dying alone in the woods. Why didn't we hear him than?"

"Well, actually I've considered that too," Hermione admitted, but for one thing, Gilderoy Lockhart, though stealing the information for his books, stole them from reputable sources, so they are accurate. And number two, Harry would block his thoughts from us if he thought we'd be in danger in answering his call." Hermione's knowledge astounded him. As ridiculous as all of these thoughts were to them, they could not dismiss them easily. Something had changed between them.

"How can people eat and chat it up at a time like this?" Ron said disgustedly, stuffing a devilled egg into his mouth whole." Than as Hermione shot him a look, he said, "Well, it's different with us isn't it?"

"I don't really think they're chatting it up. It's just that something needs to give an indication that things will be normal again, someday. Usually people go back to the deceased person's house, but Harry always considered Hogwarts his home. It's kind of a house warming of a different sort. It's to help the family enter the house for the first time since the death, and not be totally alone...know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I got it. I hadn't thought of it that way. I just thought it was a sick party of sorts." Ron said thoughtfully.

"Also, most of the close relatives have eaten poorly or not at all since the passing, so it encourages them to seek nourishment," she added. Ron had to ask himself how she knew all this stuff. As if in response to his thoughts, Hermione told him that she had read all this information in a career brochure for the funeral industry at career day last year. "Pity you and Harry were too busy to attend."

"You know Harry and I already know what we want to be," Ron said emphatically.

"Haven't you already had enough, Ron? By the time this ends, I'm going to be ready to retire!"

"I haven't really thought about it that way. Thanks though." He sounded like she had broken his bubble. Ron, for some unimaginable reason, still felt he had something to prove, and to his mind, an auror title would go a long way to provide him the recognition he'd craved forever. At least now, he didn't feel inferior, but he felt he still had room to prove himself, especially to Harry, since he had not been there for Harry when his life had almost come to an end. Harry had not meant to sound condescending when he had told Ron he was glad that he hadn't been there. Harry had not meant that Ron couldn't have helped, only that he was glad Ron wasn't hurt or killed. That day had been slow torture for Ron and Hermione too, not knowing what was happening to Harry, and getting bits and pieces of the most horrible news they had ever heard, while being denied the full story.

Ron and Hermione could sense a huge change this evening. "Boy, this place must have been home to Harry. You can feel him here more clearly than anywhere else.

"Well, you know...Harry never really had a home since he was a baby. He liked the burrow, but he always seemed so settled here, even when time wasn't kind to him sometimes here." They each silently wished they could express their anxious feelings they were having, but neither of them knew how, without sounding like a bad rendition of Professor Trelawny in Divination Class. They knew somehow that Harry wasn't in immediate danger, but they couldn't put their finger on it. They knew something had changed since they had left St. Mungos. Perhaps it was just anxiety about how they'd parted company this evening, they tried to convince themselves.

"We've got to get back. Something's not right...I can't explain it, I just know it," Ron was now completely fidgety. This had to end. He needed to get to his best friend, right now, and Hermione had the exact same urge.

As the horseless carriages pulled down the paths from Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione got a last look at the torches that had been left burning at Harry's gravesite, reflecting into the calm waters of the lake. The giant squid's massive form could be seen gliding curiously on the surface of the water. Many were the mornings when Harry, taking a much needed break from the pressures of breakfast in the great hall, had thrown his left over toast to the giant squid. If it were possible, Ron could have sworn that the giant squid was somehow strangely aware of the proceedings.

The Hogwarts Express couldn't have chugged along any slower. It was the longest, most excruitiating journey back to back to Platform nine and three quarters that they had ever endured. Both Ron and Hermione felt irritable and anxious . Ron didn't want to call attention to he and Hermione's angst, but he could see Ginny's forehead pressed against the train's window looking back at Harry's grave until the entire looming castle was out of view completely. They could feel a change in the air. The closer to London they got, the further away their friend seemed. It felt as if they'd really buried him and left. Neither had any idea how much this fake funeral would affect them. The trip had seemed to take an eternity, when in fact, the Hogwarts Express had been magiced to perform greater speeds than ever before. It was after all, only grey dawn, on one of the most emotionally draining days they had ever experienced.

After disembarking, Ron said, "Right than, mom," He winked knowingly, lest anyone overhear them, "Hermione and I are just going for some tea." Mrs Weasley knew immediately that they would head straight to St. Mungos of course.

"Absolutely not. I expect he will be getting some sleep now, and that is just where you two need to go, bed." She sounded firm.

"That's right," added Mr. Weasley, uncharacteristically supportive of Mrs Weasley's strict position. He seemed for once, to stand behind her one hundred percent, though usually they had very differing opinions on child rearing. Ginny had plucked up her courage once again and had decided to accompany Ron and Hermione to see Harry, so being forbidden was especially hard on her, for she didn't know when she would get this courage again. Why was this so hard, she kept wondering.

"You need your sleep, too," Mrs Weasley snapped. "You're still growing. Let's go," Ron was mad when Bill and Charlie flanked them on either side to prevent them from slipping away. Ron could just see past Bill's shoulders to notice his mother glance longingly at Percy, who slunk off out another exit of the terminal without so much as a nod. He looked like he had deliberately avoided his mother's gaze, maybe out of shame.

Seizing this opportunity to catch Fred and George's attention, Ron mouthed the words, 'not allowed to see him, you go see what's up.' "Never mind, you two," scolded Bill. Mom's already worried about enough about things, without you two acting up." The twins, who had actually grown up a significant bit over the years that Bill had been gone, took offense to this, as they were caught red handed sneaking off. The consolation to the offense they had taken by Bill's tone, was answered by the most unlikely source, Mrs. Weasley.

"Bill dear, I don't believe you've seen the boy's new joke shop. A very successful business, it seems. I daresay they're making a good go of it, too." She gave the twins a nod, that they knew was a warning and praise at the same time. For some reason, none of them were going to St. Mungos now. Bill, having felt somewhat badly about the tone he'd used on his younger brothers, was now keen to hear all about their business venture. Fred and George were not as enthused about talking about their successes, now that they too, gained a new sense that something was very wrong that everyone else seemed to be in the know about.

Mrs. Weasley continued to stare after Percy. "Oh, he looks so full of turmoil. He thinks he's killed...I wish we could tell him the truth," Mrs Weasley sobbed. "I know he did wrong, but it's so hard when it's one of your own."

"Molly, we must follow orders. Percy will be okay. We did raise him better than all of this, you know that," Mr. Weasley assured her, though he couldn't help feeling the fear that maybe Percy was beyond redemption.

Mrs Weasley snapped out of her worry to warn them all. "Yes, and speaking of orders, Professor Dumbledore expects Percy was ordered to get that interview at all costs. That will be in his favour, at least at the inquiry in a month's time." she stated hopefully as Charlie ushered Ron and Hermione into a muggle taxi cab. They were extremely cautious of followers.

Ginny Weasley had spoken very little during the course of the evening. Her mind had travelled to her first meeting of Harry. She had dreamt of marrying him and living happily ever after back than in a childhood crush she had had on Harry since the first day of seeing him on Platform nine and three quarters before she had even been old enough to attend Hogwarts. That part of the childhood crush was in the past, but even though she had six big brothers, she still hated the thought of Harry being killed one day for real, as this fear was always so prevalent in her mind. She did not dare speak of it to anyone. To most of them, she was just the baby sister, who had a crush on the famous boy, Harry Potter. For a time, everyone had suspected her of hero worship after Harry had rescued her from the chamber of secrets. They figured she would grow out of it. No one had given the fact that she was growing up any consideration. Sure she was grateful and impressed that Harry had been her rescuer, but she wasn't going to pay that back by being a thorn in his side, hanging around, pestering him, like they'd all warned her against, reasoning that Harry had his own way of dealing with what had taken place four years ago.

Noticing her quiet thoughtful demeanor, Mrs. Weasley assured Ginny, "It's nearly over, Ginny dear."

"Yeah, one way or the other," she sighed. "If this is this bad for us, how bad is it for him?"They were warned not to use Harry's name in public for the time being. Now Harry had become 'he who must not be named.' The irony of the situation had not escaped them, and it did not sit well.

After arriving at a set destination, a certain distance from Grimauld Place, they began a walk through several blocks of strategically placed Order members, ensuring their security was not breached. Ron argued with Mrs Weasley the whole way, while Hermione maintained a stony silence. Usually when Bill and Charlie were around, she had loads of questions for them about their career choices, because as of yet, she had not chosen her path. Now the only thing on her mind was Harry, and why all of a sudden she and Ron's seemingly infinite freedoms to at least stay at St. Mungos, had been revoked tonight.

Everyone had gone to their respective rooms without conversation. It felt as there were two people missing permanently from this place. Ron knocked at Hermione and Ginny's room door. Hermione opened it, peeking out to make sure that they weren't seen. He entered, surprised to see George and Fred already there. There was, of course, a very large meeting going on downstairs. With as many members in attendance as there was, they agreed that it was highly unusual that Professors Dumbledore, Snape and Lupin were all absent. Tonks was also missing. They hadn't seen her at the service, guessing that she had been too upset about the security breach which had occurred during her watch.

Ron now wondered aloud why they hadn't been allowed to go straight to Harry at St. Mungos. They had passed it on the way, and despite their repeated protests that they were not tired after having been up all night, Mrs Weasley maintained that they needed a nap. "We're not two years old," Ron said to the door angrily.

Fred and George, who had ridden in the casket car, had gotten bits and pieces of conversation, though they had not seen all of the car's occupants. It seemed they were concerned about the recent turn of events. They had mentioned having to check on their shop, and though almost eighteen years old, were forbidden in no uncertain terms by Mr. Weasley, who tried not to order them to take a nap, but suggested very strongly that if Mrs Weasley caught them trying to sneak off to see Harry, there would be trouble. "And We're almost eighteen, honestly," George fumed. "We weren't done with Harry yet...I mean visiting him," he corrected quickly, catching a wide eyed response from Fred to shut up. This had prompted curious looks from everyone else.

"Well, we'll just nap and than we'll be off," Hermione sad flatly, always trying her best to follow the rules.

"We'll just sneak out," Ron stated emphatically.

"We already studied that possibility, little brother," Fred informed him. "The windows are even magiced shut. We tried everything." He shrugged his shoulders. If Fred and George couldn't find a way out, no one could.

"Something's very wrong," she finally admitted, for once open to any scheme that would get them to Harry. They all feared that there had been another attack on Harry's life. Voldemort had known from the start that Harry had survived. What better time to attack than when all his friends were off at the funeral, and most of the wizarding community already believed him dead? They were all now imagining horrible scenarios. Fred and George could always be relied upon to come up with a plan, but as yet, all they could come up with was "We'll send him a message. Pig can get out. At least Harry'll know we tried to come see him."

Hermione composed a short, safely worded letter, in case it was intercepted by enemies, or even any of the grown ups downstairs. 'HI, hope all is well. We're fine, but apparently very tired, according to mother goose. We'll get to you as soon as possible. We're working on it. Don't know what the big deal is. Do you?' They didn't want to use names, and they knew Harry was well enough to at least scrawl them a note if he could get a quill. They tied the small note to pig's leg and sent her off through the small breeze opening of the window. It was a tight fit, even for a small owl. They calculated that it would take pig fifteen minutes to reach St. Mungos , another fifteen to reach Harry, and fifteen for Harry to write a reply and fifteen for a return trip. "One hour," Hermione announced. It was going to be the longest hour they had ever spent, knowing that something was very wrong.

A commotion could be heard downstairs. People were shouting at one another. Apparently, someone had been seriously injured in an attack. There were accusations that someone had been to young to join the mission in the first place, and many other voices talking at once, making it impossible to distinguish more. They just held their breath, waiting to hear more, or get an answer from Harry, either one.

"Harry's gotta be alright...right? Ginny begged reassurance from her brothers.

"Sure, Gin, of course," Fred put his arm around his little sister's shoulder, but he didn't sound too convinced either. Ron waited in agonized silence by the window. When Pig flew in, their letter still tied, unopened to her leg, all of their worst fears were confirmed, and made worse by the fact that the tiny white owl was covered in black soot, like she had been in a chimney or a place that had had a recent fire. They looked at one another, resolved to do something.

"Okay, pretend you know nothing," George suddenly commanded, as footsteps could be heard on the stairs. The twins apparated to their own room, leaving Ron in Hermione and Ginny's room. Hiding Pig in an old wooden cupboard, Ron raced across the hall to his own room...he and Harry's room. He leaped flat onto his bed from the doorway, just as Bill and Charlie rounded the landing on their floor. The twins could be heard throughout the floor faking snores loudly. Hermione and Ginny had more time to prepare, knowing that whoever it was, would knock first. They knew that it was a bed check when Bill and Charlie knocked on the door. Hermione pulled on a robe over her clothing and tried to look sleepy.

"What is it?" she asked, yawning widely.

"Er, mom says you're all going to Diagon Alley for the week before school starts. She wants you all to pack." Bill chose to look at Ginny, knowing that Hermione would go off like a cork from a wine bottle.

"What! We can't...Harry..." Bill just shook his head as if it pained him to keep his secrets. Charlie could be heard across the hall informing his brothers of the plans.

"Come on, Charlie, you can level with us. We know something's up. Just tell us what it is, okay?" Fred implored him. We're going to be of age to attend the meetings in a few months time, anyway. All of us have given the pledge already, so that should entitle us to know what is going on," he continued, his voice becoming uncharacteristically demanding.

"Look, we want to tell you. We usually don't have secrets, you know that..." Charlie looked into his younger brother's eyes.

"You don't know Harry like we do, Charlie," Ron informed him. If you would just tell us...we won't tell mom or dad..." he pleaded.

"I would tell you if I could, honest. The fewer people who know the better. Look...even we don't know everything. We're here to keep an eye on you," he admitted. They all shot him dirty looks. Every other time he had come home, Charlie and even Bill had been the returning heros, with gifts for their younger siblings and interesting stories to tell from far away places. The older Weasleys greatly missed these simple times, and they now took a good look at how much they had missed of the growing up years of their younger siblings. The years didn't go away, but the age gap seemed to shrink all the time, and the twins and even Ron and Ginny seemed so much more grown up than they had remembered.

Hermione was about to start demanding answers when Fred mouthed the words, 'shut up,' from across the hall. She looked taken aback, but complied, stifling her outburst to find out what was going on. They all pretended to comply, and they heard Bill and Charlie retreat to tell their mother that they were starting to pack.

"Shut up? What do you mean, shut up?" Hermione asked Fred, bursting.

"Hermione, we've got an idea, please be quiet!" Fred urged her. Time was not on their side. "Ron, you want to see Harry, right?"

"Yeah, of course," he stated the obvious.

"Well, you're going to have to do it the hard way than, mate." George informed him.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked nervously.

"Skiving Snack Boxes," Fred reminded him. "But we've only got the imperfected ones here. The good ones are at the shop. New research you know," he said uncertainly. Skiving Snack Boxes were an invention of the twins to help students get just sick enough to avoid classes long enough to be deemed too sick to attend, than, the student would simply take the cure and have the rest of the day for leisure activities. Unfortunately, the twins had made some seriously dangerous ones, for which a cure had eluded them, and students had ended up very ill, needing professional medical care.

"No...I'll do it," George offered. "Even we don't know how bad it will get. We've never tried this one yet...but as we are near a hospital..." George seemed determined to be the one to put himself forward, after having already talked Fred out of it when the idea had first formed.

"If one of you two try to do it, mom and dad will know you're faking it and that you're up to something," Ron stated firmly. "I'm a prefect. They won't suspect me as much." This was the first and only time being a prefect would pay off for him.

"Look, Ron, this isn't such a good idea after all," the twins said at once. Ron, however was determined, and would not be dissuaded. "Remember what happened to Katie Belle when she took some our imperfected nosebleed nougat,"

"This is risky, Ron," Hermione told him, but did not deter him. Ron swallowed the cookie from the skiving snack box Fred had handed him without really chewing. He choked on the dry cookie bits, and went to get a drink of water.

"Don't do that whatever you do!" George shouted, knocking the glass from Ron's hands, causing it to shatter on the floor, causing a portrait of a an unknown witch to screech indignantly, "That was fourteenth century crystal, sonny!"

Everyone stared at Ron, waiting anxiously for something to happen. For quite some time, nothing did.

"It's not working," George said, and they couldn't tell whether he was bothered by this or relieved that Ron wouldn't suffer harm.

"Give it a few minutes," Fred said sounding similarly anxious. "How do you feel little brother?"

"Fine..." but suddenly Ron let out a large belch. Ooohhhhh, not fine!" He raced for the bathroom. They shuddered listening to him vomit. He stumbled out. "It's working," he gave thumbs up, running out to vomit again.

"This isn't going to work," lamented Ginny. "He's not sick enough. Mom will just brew him a potion and send him back to bed."

"Ginny's right..." Ron groaned. "What else have you got?"

"No, forget it, Ron. We can't do this," the twins were firm in this."

"They underestimate us. If Harry's in trouble...or worse...we can help...and we gave the pledge...so it's our job to help him," Ron was determined to get sick enough to get to St Mungos.

The twins took in his determined young face and complied. "Here, take this, Ron."It was one of the nosebleed pills they had manufactured...one of the old ones for which the cure hadn't been easy, like the perfected version. Madame Pomfrey had been able to cure them when they had taken them, so they figured, at least hoped, that someone at St. Mungos would be able to make Ron right, or they would never have agreed to go further with their plan. "With puking and bleeding, they're bound to take him to St. Mungos."

"Or he could just deflate from lack of bodily fluids," Fred reminded them all nervously.

"Well, we could just hit him over the head," George suggested. "But that could cause real damage too. Than again, he's been knocked cold so many times, mom wouldn't worry as much." Now they were contemplating harming Ron themselves, trying to figure out which would cause the least damage, while still getting Ron to St. Mungos. Hermione began to wonder whether Fred and George were nuts or mad geniuses, or a combination of both.

"No, it's got to be something really bad to warrant a trip to the hospital," Ron said turning serious again. He took the pill in his hand.

"I don't know, Ron," the twins were uncertain, but before anyone could stop him, Ron had swallowed the pill. Almost immediately, his nose began to bleed and he felt sick and weak. He flopped onto his bed.

"Ron, you don't need to lay it on that thick with us. Save it for mom," Fred told him.

"He's not faking it, you guys." The effect had been instant. "Get your mom quick. He really needs a doctor now!" Hermione ordered. Ron was much sicker than they had ever expected, and had slumped over unconscious before the adults could even be called into see to him.


	16. The Hard Way

A/N Wow! I have been overwhelmed by all of your kind reviews! In my next posting I will be specific with my thanks, for now, I wanted to put up a next chapter. You have all truly made me a very happy person with your outstanding reviews, and I appreciate them more than you can know. I wasn't sure if anyone would like this story, so this is taking me by surprise and it is a wonderful feeling. The next posting will contain personal thanks to reviewers. I am truly awed and humbled that you would take your valuable time to review this story. It means a lot to me. Talk to you in the next posting, and I so look forward to hearing from you! Huge hugs! And a bow from me!

And now to continue...

"Ron, dear what is it?" Mrs Weasley rushed in. They all felt extremely guilty, seeing how anxious she already was, and they having induced Ron's illness themselves.

"Arthur!" she screamed, upon seeing her youngest son so gravely ill. "What happened?" she demanded of the twins. When Hermione told one of the few lies she had ever told in her life, that Ron had come down sick on his own, Mr. And Mrs Weasley lost their accusatory tone and concentrated on Ron, deciding immediately that he needed to go to St. Mungos now.

If Charlie and Bill hadn't already left Grimauld Place moments ago, Mr And Mrs Weasley would have left the twins, Ginny and Hermione in their care. As it was, they would have to come along and they were warned upon pain of death, to stay with them and not go wandering around the emergency ward. Mrs Weasley had suddenly concocted a whole story about how Harry was supposedly undergoing tests and wouldn't be receiving visitors right now. She was so upset over Ron's sudden illness, she had to trust that they would obey. Every other available person had still been in meetings. They were becoming more anxious about Ron by the minute. He hadn't looked this sick since his 'eat slugs' curse had backfired on him, and he'd spent the day vomiting slugs.

Ron was incoherent when they arrived at St. Mungos emergency department. "Oh my!" exclaimed and elderly receptionist upon seeing Ron. "Right this way!" She ushered them into a small screened off cubicle, and right away, her voice magnified, she paged the head healer to emergency cubicle one. When no one appeared, Mrs Weasley became extremely nervous.

"He's losing blood quickly. Please page someone again." she didn't want to sound rude, but felt that Ron could die if someone didn't show up soon. There was a popping sound and none other than Miss Ketchel apparated in front of them, soot covered and looking miserable and exhausted.

"Big accident tonight...I'm an intern here. What seems to be the problem?" She took one look at Ron and informed them that his illness was beyond her limited abilities. Hermione suspected that she had had a strip torn from her for what she had done to Harry. No one else was available. "There has been an explosion at the hospital. The whole third floor. No fatalities...yet, but really bad injuries, a real mess. I'll do what I can."

If they hadn't been so worried about Ron, Mr and Mrs Weasley would have reminded Miss Ketchel that the explosion on the third floor was top secret. Now they had to contend with angry demands about Harry's condition from the twins, Hermione and Ginny as well. Mr. Weasley had never been the authoritarian type, but he rounded on them now. "Right you lot, sit right there. Don't move! We need to see to Ron. We'll talk later. Do we have your word?" He was so unlike himself, stern and harsh, that they gave their word, and even Fred and George were going to try and obey.

"No fatalities yet?" Hermione whispered tearfully. "They should have told us about this." They took a little comfort in the fact that Mr and Mrs Weasley didn't seem to fear for Harry's life, at least at this point. No wonder they were forbidden to visit today. If Harry was in mortal danger, surely they would be told?

"He must be worried sick. He's been through enough," Ginny said angrily. "If they can't defend Harry, why don't they let us have a go at it than?" Obviously they're failing miserably." She was angry as anyone had ever seen her. "He's so vulnerable now..." she trailed off, and Hermione had to wonder if her crush on Harry had really gone away as Ginny had grown up.

"Okay, one of us has to sneak away," George decided. Hermione and Ginny had to agree that someone who could apparate would stand a better chance. "You stay here, Fred," George said suddenly Apparating with a loud popping noise.

"That could be really dangerous," Fred said, fearing for his brother. He was slightly angry that George had taken this chance without consultation on who would take the risk, not only on Harry's floor, but upon his return if Mr or Mrs Weasley found out what he'd done.

Miss Ketchel, meanwhile, had managed to stop the bleeding and vomiting, but as Ron was now unconscious, she could not figure out how to rehydrate him. Never since fifteen years ago, had St. Mungos been so full of wounded and dying. Doctor Green happened to walk by, looking stressed to the maximum. "Doctor Green," called Mrs Weasley, recognizing him as one of Harry's doctors, " Would you have a look at my son, Ron."

It had been one thing to treat Harry, who had arrived at St. Mungos already under muggle treatment, but Doctor Green had serious reservations about violating his Hippocratic oath by treating a young wizard, who could be better served by magical healing. One look at Ron however, and he knew he had to do something fast. Most of the healers were extremely busy on the third floor. Doctor Green ordered Miss Ketchel, who looked at him scathingly, but compliantly, to retrieve the extra intravenous tubing from his temporary office. She was back in two minutes.

Ron awoke mumbling, "Where's Harry?" It was than that Mr and Mrs Weasley realized what had happened. They saved their anger for later when he would feel better. "Ooooooh, that's disgusting!" Ron moaned as Doctor Green stuck the needle into his forearm."

"Yes...well...I'm awfully sorry about this, but everyone else is otherwise occupied and if I don't do this, your kidneys will shut down," Doctor Green explained apologetically. Mrs Weasley gasped. Ron closed his eyes. He felt sick and guilty, and now they had been caught and it hadn't gotten them any closer to Harry.

George apparated onto the third floor, wand ready, and was immediately hit with four stunning spells aimed right at his chest. Everyone was very trigger happy. He hit the ground hard.

"George Weasley, what do you mean by entering this restricted zone. We've been watching for deatheaters. You could have been killed. Everyone's severely on edge. What if someone panicked and accidentally killed you?" Tonks was beside herself, as George laid there in agony, wondering how she could tell him apart from Fred. Tonks was teary eyed and exhausted. The past few days had taken a toll on her. She had assumed a simple, no nonsense hairstyle. George didn't know whether to thank them for not killing him, or give them trouble for their attack. Looking around at the tense faces in the room, he decided on the latter.

"Sorry," George said, beginning to writhe in even more pain. He was a strong young man, but four stunning spells had taken their toll. "Enervate!" Tonks aimed her wand at him, and he stood up shakily, gingerly rubbing his chest, which was still burning. "Sorry..." he said again, but everyone is going mad over..." He couldn't speak as his eyes roved to the bed that had been Harry's. It was burnt and ruined. "Harry..." George gasped, sinking back down to the floor, hands on his face.

Kingsley Shaklebolt lay on the floor recovering from his wounds, and now George looked closely at Tonks, she had obviously been injured as well. She was bandaged on both arms and sporting a magically sealed cut on her brow. All of them looked as though they had just waged war...and lost.

No one had answered to his distress. George had no idea what to tell anyone. He hadn't expected this. A flame appeared, hovering for a moment in the middle of the floor. Everyone stared expectantly at it. Professor Snape apparated in that very spot. No one attacked him. Apparently, the flame was a signal of friendly arrival.

"What is this boy doing here?" Snape demanded immediately.

'This boy?' thought George furiously. 'Was nearly a colleague for the past few weeks.' He thought back over the last few weeks when he and Fred had sat with Harry and Snape. Snape handed all those who had been injured a potion, stopping to look closely at George. He narrowed his eyes at George, and told him to stick out his tongue. Looking in George's mouth, Snape ordered, "take this Mr. Weasley," he ordered, standing over him menacingly. George complied out of an old fear he'd had of his of his potions master.

"This won't do, sir," said Kingsley Shaklebolt, sitting up, apparently somewhat better since the potion. "He'll talk."

'Since when does anyone from the Order address Snape as Sir?' George thought, wide-eyed, but he plucked up the courage to speak.

"I came to find out about Harry," he asserted stoutly.

"Indeed?" Snape eyed him suspiciously. "Very well. He is not here." Snape pointed his wand at George and he involuntarily apparated back downstairs next to Fred.

"What's going on? Where's Harry? Is he alright?" They all asked at once.

"I don't know where to start.." George said, telling them everything and nothing at once as they took in his ripped shirt. All they knew was that another attack had occurred and they were now more worried than before, if that were possible. George had admitted having told Snape about Ron downstairs. Fred helped George into a chair as a wave of pain from the stunning spells ran through him again.

"We've got a right to know." Hermione stomped her foot, just as Snape apparated threateningly before them. "I will deal with you later. Mr. Weasley, rest," he ordered the very pale George, before stocking into Ron's cubicle. He opened Ron's mouth and poured a steaming red liquid down his throat. Ron coughed and spluttered and tried to sit up. Snape pushed him back down. "That will not be necessary," said Snape, indicating the IV in Ron's arm. He would not take it out himself, leaving it to Doctor Green to remove it. "I believe you could be of some use on the third floor, Doctor." Snape was courteous, but he sounded like he had left the word, "limited", out of his sentence before 'use.' Although fascinated with the wizarding world, Doctor Green was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. He had studied some of the simple remedies with Snape, who for some unknown reason had seemed to have a sudden interest in healing.

Snape now conferred in hushed tones with Mr and Mrs Weasley. The twins and Hermione and Ginny all saw them nod in the affirmative, than they heard Mr. Weasley reassure Mrs Weasley that it...whatever it was, was for the best.

"Oh, I suppose, but I thought we'd have more time," Mrs Weasley could be heard sobbing. Ron still couldn't sit up. He was weak and shaky. When his parents re-entered his cubicle, he braced himself for the onslaught of beratement. Mrs Weasley brushed his hair back and kissed him as her eyes filled with tears. A fear gripped Ron that something had gone terribly wrong and he was dying, or that Harry was dead. He wished they'd yell at him, anything. He was scared for his own life now too, and Harry's. Mr and Mrs Weasley did not know how to inform Ron that he would accompany Professor Snape on a journey, so they just came out with it. They had been sworn to secrecy as to the destination. Now he was thoroughly mixed up and sick.

"It's for the best, son," Mr Weasley reassured him, clapping a hand on Ron's trembling shoulder.

"You're...you're giving me to Snape?' he asked incredulously. "I...I just wanted to know what was going on...We didn't know...we still don't...I'm sorry...Don't let Snape punish me!" he pleaded, being very delirious with blood and fluid loss and not really making any sense of any of this. "I'll clean the house for a year...I'll be grounded...I...anything!" Mrs Weasley wanted to console him as his level of consciousness waned. "Noooooo...wait, I've got to save Harry," he remembered, though in his foggy state, he couldn't remember why.

"It's okay, dear," Mrs Weasley told him. "St. Mungos is full, and you're not well enough for release. We can't go with you, but you're fine...you'll be fine." She was trying to convince herself as much as him.

'But...what about Harry?" He sat up, but quickly slumped back down, dizzy and weak.

"It will be fine, son," said Mr. Weasley in that same self assuring tone. Before Ron could even say goodbye to Hermione and his siblings, for what he figured may be his last time, Snape was preparing to leave, having rolled his eyes as Ron had begged his parents not to let him punish him.

"Severus...take care of him, please," Mr. Weasley asked. Snape looked at Ron's father with a respect that did not often cross his snearing face.

"Of course," he answered. No one would have thought it possible that Snape could be moved by a parent's love for their child. Snape grabbed Ron gently by the shoulders and in a flash, they were gone. Ron passed out immediately.

Hermione, the twins and Ginny, all sprang to attention when Mr and Mrs Weasley left the cubicle. They were about to inundate them with a barrage of questions about what had happened on the third floor, but fell suddenly silent, upon seeing how very upset they were. The subject changed to Ron, as they feared that their plan had gone more awry than they thought possible. They had been certain that if medical attention could be reached in due time, Ron would be fine. They didn't have any idea that the hospital would be full. "Where's Ron?" Fred asked nervously.

"He's gone!" Mrs Weasley burst out, partly because she was so upset, but also because of the effect it would have on her delinquent children. She was punishing them by making them think they'd killed Ron, but when she saw the same sorrowful faces that Percy had worn on Platform nine and three quarters, when thinking he'd killed Harry, she could not go on with her plan. She took in their pale faces, and wondered if she'd have done the same very thing if her friends had been in trouble when she was younger. The twins had to get their spunk from somewhere, and all this time, she had blamed it on her husband.

"Gone?" Fred faltered, looking like he was going to be sick, too.

Gone with Professor Snape. St. Mungos is full at the moment. He's going to find Ron accommodations elsewhere. "Right than, you lot, home," she ordered sternly, suddenly letting out a gasp as George stood to comply with the order but sitting back down with an exclamation of pain, his hands flying to his chest. "George, you're wounded!" Mrs Weasley said, flying to his side.

"I'm alright, mom...really," George lied unconvincingly, getting to his feet, determined not to let on just how much he hurt. He felt it was his fault and he would deal with it. Mr. Weasley undid the buttons on George's ripped shirt to reveal the now black and purple bruises that had formed around George's ribs. George winced as Mr Weasley ran a hand gently over the wound.

"This needs attention, George," Mr Weasley told him, about to go get someone to see his other son.

"There was a healer on the third floor..." George told him, admitting where he'd received the wound. Mrs Weasley gave a shriek. "Oh George! You could have been killed! You don't know the pass spell!" she yelled, sitting next to George who had needed to sit again. George had seen the healer, but had been told to stay around until he could be examined again before being sent on his way. Snape knew that George would have to admit what he'd done, in order to get the proper treatment for his injuries. He could think of no better punishment. George had fought the pain in his chest, hoping to just get back to Grimauld Place and get to his room to lie down, without troubling anyone. Although brave, four stunning spells layed out even the most hardy of wizards and had nearly killed poor Professor McGonagall last year.

Mr. Weasley apparated, appearing as a flame on the third floor. Everyone expected a sound thrashing at his hands for having hurt his son, but Mr. Weasley was no stranger to stakeouts where the stakes were so high. He could not blame them. Tonks broke into a full sob at the sight of Mr. Weasley, who would be about the age of her own father. "Oh, Mr. Weasley, we didn't mean to hit George. The healer said he'd be fine in a week or two of home rest. I was just coming down with him."

"Tonks," Mr. Weasley began in a fatherly voice, "these are difficult times. It is war. The world doesn't know it yet, but they will soon. There wasn't anything you could have done, in either situation," he added. She looked relieved. "I just need someone to have another look at George before we take him home."

George was led into Ron's cubicle and wretched when he saw the discarded IV tubing. He was examined, and given several small bottles of potions to mend his broken ribs and ease the pain. He was absolutely forbidden to partake in any strenuous activities, and was given bed rest for a week, followed by limited activity for another week and was ordered to see Madame Pomfrey upon his return to school. George walked slowly with Fred on one side and Mr. Weasley on the other.

Mr. Weasley was utterly exhausted what with the overtime shifts for the Ministry of Magic and his extra Order duties. He had been absent so much this summer, when usually, the highlight of his holidays, was spending time with his children, but than everything had changed...for everyone it seemed. The family was met by Professor Moody as they approached Grimauld Place. The young people whispered among themselves. Hermione liked the twins and Ginny very much, but she felt very out of the loop without Ron and Harry.

It was late into the night when Mrs Weasley was finally satisfied that George was sufficiently looked after to be left alone for awhile before sleep. As they sat in the twin's room, they decided that for now, there was nothing to do but give up and worry. The members of the Order who remained at Grimauld Place, held a meeting to decide what to tell them.

Becoming too drowsy to resist sleep, but needing to stay together, Ginny fell asleep at the foot of her brother's bed. They tried desperately to hear what was being said downstairs, but agreed that there would no more spying tonight. If any of them had gotten a look at Snape's new talent, companion Apparation, none of them would have been able to sleep at all. They had already marvelled that he could send George back downstairs at St. Mungos against his will. These were incredibly rare skills. Most of the even the best wizards, needed a portkey to perform such tasks. Hermione wondered aloud whether Snape had learned these useful things from Voldemort. There were very few in all the wizarding world who could perform such tasks and she sincerely hoped that Voldemort wasn't one of them. It would make his job all the easier. As she made her way across the hall to her room, minus Ginny, who was still fast asleep, she was a little agitated at Fred and George for not being more concerned about Snape's having taken Ron to an undisclosed location.

Harry opened his eyes, unfocused and heavy lidded as they were. He reached for the night table, but it wasn't there. He reached for his oxygen mask, and removing it, said, " Hello?" His voice sounded small and strangely echoed.

"Mom, Harry's up!" Harry recognized that voice. "Here, Harry." His glasses were placed into his open hand. When he put them on, he blinked several times, taking in his surroundings as they came into focus. He'd been here before...many times before.

"Hospital wing?" Harry was clearly confused. He could give no account of his trip there. It was night time, not day as he'd expected. The torches burned low to allow the other patients to sleep. "Tyler...How..." he stammered, taking in the familiar surroundings.

"You arrived here early this morning," he was informed by a smiling Madam Pomfrey. "I've been expecting you."

"But last night...this morning was my..." Harry was suddenly comprehending. He had been brought back to Hogwarts in his own coffin! The very cold realization of this made him feel extremely nauseous. He remembered his death dreams more vividly than ever. It had been a clever ruse, sneaking him back to Hogwarts on the day of his funeral. The security that had been placed at St Mungos, invariably had been believed by even Voldemort. The fact that the dark lord had known Harry was alive, still worked against him, as he had tried to strike out at him at St. Mungos while his regular security would be at the funeral, in actual fact, protecting a very much alive Harry Potter. The Dark Lord had not learned of the ruse as it would become known to him in his frustration. It had worked against the press and more importantly, against the Dark Lord. Harry was now at the second most secure place he could be.

The assumed safety did nothing to get the horror that jolted through his entire being to go away. "They...they didn't bury me...did they?" Harry shuddered, "and than dig me back up?"

"Well, no, not really. You weren't entirely buried. When the carriages left, they took you out and brought you here, where Madam Pomfrey's been tending you ever since. Harry checked out his whole body, imagining mud on his skin and shivering with fear none of them could ever understand. He realized he was now in his Hogwarts Pyjamas, and for a second, before remembering the Modesto charm, he wondered who had changed him. His legs felt horribly itchy and tender, but he shocked himself completely when he went to scratch his foot with his other foot and they not only obeyed his will, something that he could not do just yesterday, but they bent as well.

"The casts are gone!" He was so grateful for this turn of events, that the morbid burial thoughts were forgotten for the blissful moment where he could actually scratch his leg that had been under these casts for weeks and had been predicted to have been on for several more.

"I removed the casts, Harry. You will however, not be permitted to try to get on your feet for three more weeks. The breaks and damage to tissue was extensive. I daresay, had I gotten to you first, still you would have faced a long recovery period, albeit shorter than you now face, but I am at least pleased with your progress in their hands," she informed him, meaning muggles, he assumed.

Harry had no idea what his friends were going through, or that they did not know where he was, but he suddenly realized that though the hospital wing of Hogwarts was comfortable enough, it was so overly large, and he dreaded the nights alone. He pictured Ron and Hermione shopping for supplies in Diagon Alley without him, and he longed to be with them. He had no idea how wrong his thoughts on this subject were.

He suddenly realized that he'd been subconsciously clenching his hands into tight fists. In fact his whole body was stiff and sore. He slowly unclenched his fists and was absolutely stunned to find a candy wrapper in his palm. He recognized the brand of candy as being the same as the ones Neville had received from his dear mother, as he peered at the wrapper, perplexed as to how it had gotten there. He continued to stare at the empty wrapper under the dim lights of the hospital wing. He had not been allowed candy of any kind at St. Mungos and was just about to ask someone about the wrapper, when he suddenly remembered a dream he'd had after he'd been sedated by Professor Snape on the night of his funeral. He had figured than, that he'd been sedated so he wouldn't worry so much about the funeral that night.

Harry had fallen into the forced sleep, after staring at Kingsley Shaklebolt who was on guard duty that night. He had dreamt that Shaklebolt became absolutely awed and star struck, when two of the finest aurors of all time, paid a visit, their very first, out of the psychiatric ward at St.Mungos, to him, Harry Potter. Kingsley Shaklebolt had told Harry that he had become an auror after reading about the Longbottoms before his career choice days.

Harry remembered how sorry he'd felt for the Longbottoms in his dream, and for Neville, who should have received their first visit. They were so very confused. He knew he wasn't going anywhere for awhile. He had been told he'd be in hospital until the start of school, but poor Mrs Longbottom had bade him a fond goodbye, wishing him well on his journey on this night, when he wasn't going anywhere. She kissed him, taking his hand in hers, before giving him the empty candy wrapper, which she had of course thought was full. She had pressed the wrapper into his hand, kissing that too, and than leaving with her husband, who had remained silent the entire time. Laying here, wrapper in hand, Harry felt sure it hadn't been a dream. He couldn't wait to tell Neville. There was a new drug trial taking place on the psychiatric ward that Harry had caught wind of, and it was working obviously, at least to a small degree.

Madame Pomfrey thought Harry had just taken a break to scratch his legs while he was being so silent figuring out his dream. As he came back to the present, he asked hopefully, "Madame Pomfrey? You got rid of the casts and I was wondering if..." He pointed to the oxygen mask, which felt like it was going to leave permanent lines in his skin if he had to wear it much more.

"I'm afraid that's got to stay, Potter, at least for a few more days. I'm looking into an incubator charm for you. It'll keep out all the cold germs as well, what with all the students returning soon. We can't have you getting sick." Harry just looked at her. "You know what I mean," she said sternly, but smiling. "Now than, you might not have known, but you've had a very long rough day, and it is therefore time for you to rest."

After all the poking and prodding at St. Mungos, Madame Pomfrey suddenly didn't seem so bustling and overbearing. She was however extremely relieved to have Harry back in her care, and if for nothing else, Harry was grateful for the absence of the uncomfortable casts. "I'll rest, I promise, but can I at least send an owl to my friends to let them know what's up?" Harry had no idea that his friends didn't even know where he was.

"Oh, I'm afraid not, dear. Professor Dumbledore feels maybe by tomorrow it will be safe for you to do so." Seeing the pained expression on his face, she added something that Harry suspected he was not to be told. "You will have company soon enough. I can't say more. Now than, just take your potion and the throbbing in your left side will diminish." Harry hadn't mentioned a specific pain to her.

"How do you do that?" he asked.

"It is all part of my gift. The reason I became a healer. Most times, I can see where it hurts." Madame Pomfrey had never been much for conversation. She had always been kind when needed and stern when necessary, but now she was different altogether. Harry guessed that being one of the very few patients, she had more time for bedside manner. He had never considered that during school terms, she was the only medical person for the entire student and staff population.

'No wonder she's always bustling and fussy, not to mention, in Harry's opinion, overly cautious. Many were the nights he'd spent in the hospital wing, convinced he would have been fine in his own dorm. On the other hand, a thought struck him hard, with many of his more serious injuries, most students would have been sent home, but Madame Pomfrey knew he would not get the care he needed at the Dursleys, so while not sick enough to be hospitalized, he had to remain there because he had no home to go to, to be looked after.

Madame Pomfrey's voice brought him out of his own thoughts. "Right now for instance, I see your heart hurts." she told him, knowingly.

"Oh, yeah, they must've told you. It was a little damaged in the er..." Harry didn't know what to say about what had happened to him, so Madame Pomfrey finished his sentence.

"Attack, by that filthy, evil..." Madame Pomfrey had never taken kindly to anyone who harmed one of her patients. She despised any form of dangerous sports and leisure activities. She really cared. Harry only really knew this now, after all these years of being her patient. "And that's not what I meant, Harry, though I have looked into that physical injury as well. I think they will find it will heal much better now that you are resting here," she winked at him. Harry now realized that Madame Pomfrey had been using his first name. He wondered for a minute if she was so nice to him because something dreadful was going to happen to him.

"What I meant was not the physical, but the sorrow. Your heart is full of it. If you were full of sorrow for the silly teenage reasons, like too many pimples, or being too short or too tall or whatever other teenage vanity problems they come in here with," she rolled her eyes. "Than I would have Professor Snape make you a cheering potion, but your sorrow is too deep and too real. Only time can heal that. I wish I could help you with that." She was so sympathetic, that Harry, remembering Hermione's revulsion at his chest scar, felt that she wouldn't be cross if he asked her to do something about that.

"Madame Pomfrey?" he began, fully intending to ask about the scar, but changing his mind suddenly, he asked instead, "You've been a healer here at Hogwarts for a long time, right?" She nodded in the affirmative. Knowing that she'd been here for a very long time before his parents, he asked, "Did you, that is, do you remember my parents and my Godfather, Sirius Black?" Her smile at the mention of Lily and James, quickly became a frown at the mention of Sirius Black's name, and just when Harry figured he was in for a tirade about 'that no good for nothing murderer, Sirius Black, Harry found out why she had frowned.

"Oh, that young Sirius," she recalled, "was in and out of here almost as much as you are. Always after the full moon. Why, poor Remus would come in for his monthly checkup after the full moon...yes, I know you know about that," she said to Harry when he raised his eyebrows. "Poor Sirius would come in at the same time, feet and hands all cut up and bruised, concocting a different very unlikely story each time, as if I couldn't recognize an underdeveloped animagus. I wonder if he ever succeeded?" she mused. Harry, almost bursting to tell her, but stopping short, wondering if this was too much information even though, clearly, Sirius had no need for cover or disguise anymore. Madame Pomfrey had seen the black dog in the hospital wing, but he had not changed back into his human form in front of her.

"They used to sit right over there, and play exploding snap. Your father used to join them. I almost had to kick him out before Remus and Sirius would go to sleep. I remember one Christmas in particular, when the both of them, Remus and Sirius, sent your father in to figure out if I would tell the headmaster about their injuries...sustained in the forbidden forest I might add," she said warningly, knowing that Harry had on several occasions ventured in there. "Judging by their previous injuries, I knew that they wouldn't come in if I told the headmaster. They both ended up here with me for the entire Christmas break. Well, of course, they really didn't have anyone at home to look after them." Seeing Harry look at the floor in shame, she added. "You are not without care or home young man. You have the Weasley's home and you have, here." Harry was extremely surprised that she, unlike most adults, didn't mention the Dursleys. She knew more than Harry ever gave her credit for.

Harry had noticed that Madame Pomfrey did not say Sirius's name with contempt and loathing like most people did, but rather with much care and pity. Harry found it hard to keep himself in check and not ask her if she thought Sirius was innocent, as he of course had been all along. He was slowly getting up his courage, because Madame Pomfrey was actually very nice and very accessible, given a moment's spare time. She was called away by a loathsome voice Harry would recognize anywhere.

"He has arrived, Madame Pomfrey," he heard Snape inform her. Harry listened hard to catch what exactly Snape was telling the Matron about, but all he could make out was, "Foolish boy,' 'numbskull brothers,' and 'made himself sick'... 'could've died,' 'lucky he came when he did'... 'would have been a real funeral to attend'... 'should be getting overtime for this." Than a door closing sound and the conversation ceased. Clearly the new patient couldn't speak.

As Harry strained to hear bits of the conversation, he could hear Tyler talking to his mother and Madame Pomfrey. He seemed disappointed about something, as Madame Pomfrey let him examine the new patient. "Oh," he said, "I must be making more of this than is necessary. I mean, according to Professor Dumbledore, Animagi are made with practice, not born."

"What do you mean, Tyler," Stephanie asked him. She had also been reading up on animagi.

"Well," Tyler began uncertainly with Madame Pomfrey standing right behind him, "No...it's just a mistake. I feel stupid bringing it up."

"Go on, Tyler," prompted Madame Pomfrey, and Harry found he liked her even more for her encouragement of the new student.

"Well...Do you remember, mom, when that lady brought in that nest of baby birds. Killdeers, I think they were. She said their parents had been killed by predatory birds trying to raid the nest?"

"Yes, I remember. Those birds decoy themselves by faking injury or illness to protect the nest by getting the predator to chase after them instead of the helpless birds in the nest." Harry had grinned about the fact that Stephanie had sounded uncannily like Hermione showing off in class.

"I got a sense like I don't get from other people, except Harry before now. He has these qualities, like that bird, like the parent birds. They're bursting to get out. He's even used the decoy tactics before. I can feel it right in him."

"But he's just a boy, Tyler. He has no children to protect."

Harry heart began to race. He knew that Tyler was somewhat telepathic with animals, but what he said next, caught him completely off guard. "Harry's my friend and so I read every chapter on him in every book I could find. He has no parents to fight for him and he's had a hard life being hunted by Voldemort." Harry still could not believe the ease in which this young muggle used the name of the dark lord, without so much as cringing, when even Ron, to this day, would shudder at the mention of it. "Maybe this boy, Ron, being his best friend and all, has instincts of protection for Harry. It's just a thought," he added, not expecting any interest on the subject from Madame Pomfrey. But indeed Madame Pomfrey had treated both Ron and Hermione on several occasions when their injuries had been a direct result of trying to help Harry. She prompted him to continue, and he felt greatly pleased.

"I almost feel like he could fly, light you know." Madame Pomfrey knew that Tyler must have sensing much deeper than appearance. Ron was tall and gangly and would not be considered graceful enough for flight in any form by most.

Somehow in the pit of his stomach, Harry knew that Ron and Hermione had always had what they accused him of for years, a saving people thing. He had hoped that when it came right down to it, the final battle, that they would seek protection for themselves, but somehow, even he had sensed that they were all in it until the end, for good or bad, and though he'd tried to distance himself from them at certain times all through school, they stuck by him, and here, apparently, was Ron, injured again, no doubt on his behalf. Harry was worried that it was serious and could not wait any longer to admit that he had been eavesdropping the entire time. He took a minute to calm himself, still listening.

"If these things you have observed in Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley prove to be accurate, you have a gift beyond any I have seen in a healer. If Tyler hadn't been so sincere and hardworking, Harry would have believed him to be a scam artist. He felt his body relax when Madame Pomfrey declared that Ron would be fine, and secretly admonished himself for being glad that Ron was here, even though it meant he'd been hurt or taken ill somehow. Harry knew all along that Tyler was special, because Professor Snape had never shown, even in the tiniest measure of interest, in a child who wasn't in Slytherin, and probably, Harry felt, related to deatheaters.

Becoming suddenly concerned about the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione, if Ron was here at the hospital wing, Harry called, "Madame Pomfrey?"

She peeked through the curtains surrounding Ron's bed and replied, "What is it Mr. Potter? You are supposed to be sleeping."

"Is that my friend, Ron?"

"If you must know, yes it is," but seeing the look of concern, she assured him, "Mr. Weasley will recover from his self inflicted illness in a few days time." Harry was perplexed. Had Ron crashed his broom? Had he tried apparating, like he threatened to on many occasions, and been splinched? Harry had a thousand scenarios going through his mind. Madame Pomfrey was a patient woman, but her sympathy was limited when the person had been injured by their own lack of self preservation.

"He wasn't...attacked than?" asked Harry, sounding very relieved. "And the other Weasleys and Hermione? They're okay?" Since Ron and Hermione had been inseparable this past summer, he couldn't imagine where she could be. "Where is Hermione...Is she..."

"Miss Granger is in London, spending the remainder of her holidays with her parents," Madame Pomfrey informed him. She too, had been worried at first, when she heard that she would have the second of the trio without the third. Now that Harry was back at Hogwarts, it was very different. Everyone seemed to answer his questions freely, instead of just looking at him with pity and refusing him his requests for information.

"Was there an accident?"

"No, Mr. Potter. It seems Mr. Weasley, with the help of those two..." She pursed her lips and continued, "brothers of his, concocted an illness to enable him to be admitted to St. Mungos hospital so he could look for you. Of course it went too far, and he ended up in a real life threatening peril. When I get my hands on those two," she continued with a slightly eery smirk crossing his usual kind face, "...you know, those Weasley twins caused half my workload last year, with those sick inducing gadgets," she remembered bitterly. For a healer, she sounded quite revengeful. "Oh, I'll put them to work," she scowled. Now that Harry thought about it, had it not been for the fact that Fred and George had dreamed of being joke shop owners, they would have made fine healers, or potions masters, or just about anything they'd put their minds to. They had succeeded in everything, as long as it had been their idea.

"Nearly killed himself, he did," she finished, checking over Ron before bustling off with Tyler and Stephanie, apparently to show them to their new temporary lodgings, just off the hospital wing. Since Tyler's custom curriculum included mostly healing and occlumency, this would be ideal, beside's the dungeons where his other related fields of study would take place, were not suitable for a family, as Stephanie would also be staying here, while her husband was away on business.

In his sickened state, Ron had learned nothing of Harry's whereabouts or condition. Now he mumbled and opened his eyes, not knowing where he was. It was so dark, he could not make out his surroundings. The last people he had seen, were his parents. "Mom, dad? Where are you?" he called, trying not to sound nervous. He knew they wouldn't have left him.

"Ron!" Harry shouted through the curtain, having heard Ron stir and begin to ask questions quietly, in a mildly panicky sort of way. Harry could see Ron's silhouette against the curtain, as the nearly full moon fell across the hospital wing. Ron had propped himself into sitting position with a groan and a lot of effort. He stared unblinkingly in the darkness, feeling that he was surly hallucinating and not wanting to answer the voices in his head.

" Ron! Over here!" Harry whispered, waving his hand as it caught enough moonlight on the curtain and magnified to an enormous size. Still not quite with it, Ron screamed in terror as the giant silhouette of Harry's hand fell across his bed and all of Harry's hope of a private conversation with him to get the details on what happened, were dashed with the arrival of a very frazzled Madame Pomfrey.

"What is it, Mr. Weasley," she asked, very disturbed by the piercing scream that had not been expected at all. Everyone was on edge and very much on guard, since they had been warned since Harry had returned to Hogwarts, that the threat level to the staff and students would greatly increase with his presence. Madame Pomfrey felt a little silly, having expected a full out attack from Voldemort, when she found the frightened form of Ron, cowering under his covers, still under the effects of the potion Snape had given him, which had the unpleasant side effect of paranoia.

"H hhh hand...huge, tried to get to me..called to me," Ron whimpered sleepily.

Madame Pomfrey gave Ron a lucidity potion and he came around almost instantly. "Where am I?" he asked, not having remembered the trip with Snape.

"You are in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. You gave us quite a scare, I daresay. You've been sleeping all day," Madame Pomfrey informed Ron. Harry, who had stared at that curtain for the whole day, as expectantly as Ron and Hermione had stared at his sleeping face, could contain himself no longer.


	17. REUNIONS

Harry had waited as patiently as he could, waiting for Ron to regain some of his bearings after his delirious fight with the big giant hand. "Ron, I'm over here," Harry waved again, and Ron suddenly felt very foolish about his terrified actions and screams. Not waiting for Madame Pomfrey to open the curtains, Harry performed the Alohomora charm on them, being the only charm he could think of. Of course, Alohomora, being too strong for curtains, blew the entire curtain and support rods billowing down the wide middle aisle of the entire hospital wing and ending up against the far doors with a huge crash. Normally, Madame Pomfrey would have told them off for such a mistake, but seeing the two friend's relief, she merely reprimanded Harry, asking him to please have a little patience. Mr. Filtch, the Hogwarts caretaker was called to repair the damage.

"Harry! You're safe! We were so worried. We couldn't find you. No one would tell us anything..." Ron's voice sounded so desperately grateful that Harry did not secretly relish in the fact that for once, they were the ones who weren't told anything. He felt genuinely sorry to have put them through this though it wasn't his fault. Ron was still pale and clammy looking and he shuddered slightly in the gymnasium sized room.

Ron's eyes still had not focussed properly. "How did we get here?" he wanted to know, not knowing that Harry had been here for some time already. If he hadn't remembered being told where he was, he would have figured that Snape had taken them somewhere to be tortured and turned over to his master.

To their great surprise, Madame Pomfrey lit their bedside lamps and let them stay up to talk for awhile, figuring this to be good therapy for them both. Now they could see one another. As Harry took in Ron's haggard appearance, he thought, 'he has to look worse than me.' "Ron, are you alright?" Harry could never have forgiven himself if Ron had died trying to come to him.

"Yeah, just a bit flat, you know? Dumb question, really, mate," Ron told him, taking in Harry's still pale thin appearance, but then even he had to admit under further scrutiny, that Harry looked better than he had even days ago. There was a small flicker of colour in his cheeks and Ron noticed for the time, suspecting Madame Pomfrey had already done a bit more than she was technically supposed to do at this point, that the facial cuts and bruises Harry had, were gone. The Matron had definitely done more than just restabilise him after his secret journey to Hogwarts.

Madame Pomfrey had always been a tough old bird, but she had cried at her first sight of Harry since the attack, who was delivered to her care still in his coffin and looking like he belonged there. There hadn't been an auror present, who could have criticised her for showing him some extra attention. The boy had been through hell on earth. Besides, if anyone had wanted to remind the Matron, that she was to restabilise him only, they would suddenly have a pang of remembrance of her care during their own time at Hogwarts, and she had always been a much respected witch. When she had finished with caring tenderly for Harry and had him placed snugly into bed with extra blankets and had placed a warming charm around the bed, she had Kingsley Shaklebolt take the coffin outside and burn it. She could have just blasted it away with her wand, but she had asked that it be burned under the hospital wing window so she could watch the nightmare disappear. She could bear no reminders of having to magic him out of that casket, his lifeless body, limp in her hands.

Not knowing what she had been through, Harry smiled back at Ron. Just seeing him again and knowing that Hermione and the other Weasleys were safe, made everything alright again, if only for a few minutes. The misunderstanding they had the last time they were together at St. Mungos, was no longer important. There were no apologies necessary , so they just didn't mention it.

Harry had never really paid attention to Madame Pomfrey's methods, but he was surprised that she'd had an instrument similar to a stethoscope, which she now placed against Ron's chest, while apparently taking his pulse. "Well, you're still down about a litre, Mr. Weasley," she admonished him. "Honestly, nosebleed pills. What will you Weasley boys think of next?" she grumbled, but her demeanor softened a little as Harry feigned a yawn to cover a grin.

"Here, drink this," she ordered, giving Ron the same potion she had given him. It was red, making Ron wonder with a shudder, if he was drinking blood. "Certainly not!" Madame Pomfrey denied, sounding disgraced and disgusted. "That is the finest blood replenishing potion made to date. It contains red whortleberry tree roots, rich as real blood in iron and replenishing fluids than the real thing, and growing rarer by the day. If the Ministry does nothing to curtail the destruction of the wild whortleberry tree, it will become extinct, wiping out a wide variety of healing potions available to us. They, of all organizations, should see the benefits. Vampire attacks have decreased so dramatically, that they are no longer considered a threat in most of our ancient towns and villages worldwide. Professor Dumbledore himself pleaded the case for it's exportation for medicinal use to other countries that cannot grow the tree in their climate conditions. Because of Dumbledore's tireless efforts, the tree is now really only at risk from the unenlightened. Ron was glad to hear this, but mostly, he was just very grateful that he hadn't been drinking blood.

"If you think that's gross," Harry informed Ron, seeing him grimace at the taste of the whortleberry root potion, "muggles actually share blood through needle transfusions."

Expecting an amusing reaction to this comment, Harry was surprised when Ron merely said, "Makes sense, better than drinking it," he reasoned. He was disappointed that he had failed to gross out Ron, and then became suddenly apprehensive that he had heard vague references to a blood transfusion for himself, during the flight in the helicopter the night of the attack in the woods. He had remembered a medic telling someone to cross match him, and than see his 'father.' Harry didn't want to know...anything, besides, Snape had almost fainted just watching Harry get needles. He reassured himself a hundred times over, that Snape would never in a million years, give up one ounce of his precious pure blood, to save his life. It was just too revolting, so he forced it from his mind. What had started out as a means to gross out his best friend, had backfired miserably.

"Harry?" Ron's voice was uncertain. "How did you get here?"

"Oh...er that.." he hesitated. "After you and Hermione left St. Mungos, they sedated me . First it was like I didn't care about anything...no worries, than I fell asleep, and when I woke up...I was here." Ron looked awkward, yet anxious to ask him something.

"But Harry...that was the night of your funeral," Ron stammered, wide eyed.

"Yeah," Harry muttered grimly.

"So...so you were really...in there?" Ron meant the coffin. He shuddered, just thinking about it, so did Harry. "But Harry...they lowered that into the ground before we left." This was something no one had told him the truth about.

"Well how the bloody hell did I get here than!" Ron was close to hysterics, remembering nothing about his trip or arrival at Hogwarts at all. He did, however, remember hearing Hermione's exasperated voice saying, "You can't apparate into Hogwarts or the grounds! How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Snape brought you here," Harry reminded him quickly. Ron wished he could remember. Being unconscious in Snape's care, was not something he wanted to think about. After having been threatened incessantly by the potions master about potions trials on students, he worried that perhaps the Professor had taken an opportunity to experiment on him. Instinct made him take stock of how many fingers and toes he still had, and other such checks.

"You really shouldn't have made yourself sick for me," Harry told his friend gently, "but I'm kinda glad you're here with me, mate."

"We were so worried, Harry, only I expect Hermione will still be fretting, about us both now. He felt slightly guilty, but he was glad that at least one of them could be here with Harry, even if it did mean constant fussing by Madame Pomfrey. 'Oh well, he thought to himself, Harry's way worse off than me, she'll likely fuss over him more and I'll just be able to lie about 'til the end of holidays.' A small part of him missed the happy week in Diagon Alley, though.

"Speaking of Hermione, Ron," Harry began awkwardly, "was she really mad at me still, for telling you all off? I was just so frustrated. I just want to be done with all this!" The happy reunion had just taken on a serious tone.

"Nah, mate, you know our Hermione. She couldn't stay angry with you. It was our fault, we shouldn't have lied to you." Ron looked down at his feet. Harry had never meant to make him feel worse, and now they were both quite miserable.

"Let's just forget it, only I think we should make a pact to tell each other the truth from now on. It'll just make things easier."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you, but we're always being told to keep certain things to ourselves by the Order...by everyone." Ron felt uncertain that he and Hermione would be able to comply with Harry's request for honesty. He now wondered something that everyone wonders at some point in their lives, 'was not telling somebody something they technically had the right to know, actually lying?' Ron would spend the rest of the night pondering the age old question. He considered telling Harry about his pledge to the order to protect Harry to the death. He knew that Harry would never agree to this sacrifice, even though he had risked his life for them on more than one occasion, and Ron knew he would do it again in a heartbeat.

Ron was suddenly very tired again. He wondered, as Harry had wondered almost every day of his life, what it would be like to be a normal carefree teenage boy. He did know one thing. He had never for a minute regretted having become friends with Harry Potter, but as he lay back in sudden silence, watching the rain begin to pelt the stained glass windows, he wished more than ever that he and his friends were done; done worrying about Voldemort, done trudging around classrooms receiving an education that they may never live long enough to use, and most of all, done lying to one another at someone else's request or order. After all, he thought, not unlike Fred and George's take on things, they had already done more in their pre O.W.L.S days than any other student before had ever done after N.EW.T.S. He talked himself back into reality, realizing at least for now, Hogwarts was the safest place Harry could be.

Harry had fallen asleep. It seemed amazing to Ron how little it took his usually exuberant friend to become exhausted, and once again, a fear in the back of his mind, and he tried to keep it shoved way back, that even if Harry eventually rid the world of Voldemort, would he lose his own life in the process? He couldn't help but study Harry's face. He did look better, and somehow younger than when Ron had parted company with him before all this all had happened at the end of the school year. 'Don't be a git, Ron, you're just getting sentimental,' he chided himself. 'No, just mental. It's all that hanging out with just Hermione without Harry that's done it,' he told himself, but there was no way to deny that he missed Hermione in a different way than he'd missed Harry on the summer breaks. 'She's a good friend,' he thought, with a little more attention to the subject than he wanted.

Continuing to look at Harry, Ron was now struck by the fact that neither he nor Harry nor Hermione had seriously dated anyone. Hermione had always talked Harry up in front of other girls, especially ones she knew he liked, but now he thought of it, he had never received the same courtesy from her. In fact, the more he scanned his memory, the more he realized that whenever he had expressed a compliment toward a girl, Hermione had met it with clucking disapproval. Ron was finally coming to grips with something that Harry had struggled with all last year. He just could not understand girls, and with a growing dread, he remembered that the coming year would be full of parties and get togethers with other schools and the like to promote bonding together against Voldemort. At least he had one less worry this year, no more frilly frocks. He would look the same as every single boy in the place, which was just fine with him.

Hermione had spent perhaps the loneliest few days of her life. Of course she was happy to be spending time with her parents, but she had had a certain idea of what the end of the summer would be like before Harry had been so seriously injured. She had wanted so much to have Harry and the Weasleys spend a week with she and her parents. Mr and Mrs Granger had met them all before, but Hermione thought Ron especially, would enjoy spending some time in a muggle house, especially if his parents popped around for tea. Mr. Weasley would have been fascinated.

Hermione sat sadly looking out into the night. No one had yet told her where Ron had been taken, let alone Harry. Somehow she knew in her heart that they were not in immediate danger, but she felt so incomplete without them. Her pledge to the Order to defend Harry to the death had also been a prayer she had made, that she would be able to defend Ron in the same way, to the death if necessary. The summer of fear, danger and grief, had brought them all closer than ever before. Many were the nights they had sat in silent comfort of one another while Harry had lain between life and death.

Although Hermione had had her Hogwarts letter for some time, she had yet to tell her parents about the family week that had been planned for the week leading up to Halloween until the second of November. She worried for their safety and how they would react when they learned how grave the situation was between Harry and the dark lord. She feared, as a minor, that her parents would pull her from the school, feeling as Seamus Finniagan's mother had that it was simply too dangerous to be around such a target of hatred, and one who is hunted continually until he is caught and killed or is the victor over Voldemort himself.

In some bizarre way, Hermione took comfort in the fact that it had been revealed to her that Harry would have to kill Voldemort himself or be killed by him directly. In this way, Voldemort's supporters would be able to act as captors only, which she reasoned, would give them time to save him.

Hermione knew that her parents had never missed a parent's night or a stage play that she had been in, no matter how small the part their only daughter played in her muggle school. They would be thrilled to be allowed to glimpse into her wizarding education, other than just receiving exemplary report cards every three months. She grimaced as a knot formed in her stomach as she knew that it would be revealed to them that she had lied to them. Harry had been alive all along, and she had watched her mother cry at Harry's funeral. Mr. and Mrs Granger had missed a day at their dental clinic, one which had been set aside for the free dentistry for the less privileged. They had, of course, rescheduled, but the problems resulting from the time change were extensive.

Hermione lay in bed, wondering if she should just go tell her parents the whole story, minus the part about Harry still being alive until all their questions about how and why he had been attacked in the first place had been answered. She got a headache worrying about how Dumbledore would go about telling the world that Harry was in fact alive, without looking deceitful. She knew that following the announcement, there would be happy relief from at least most people, followed by angry indignation, and she was reminded of the old saying, 'oh what a tangled web we weave, when we first we practice to deceive.'

Her mind had wondered to thinking about Harry's injuries. He had lost teeth, actually quite a few of them when his jaw had broken, and they had been magically regrown by a potion from Professor Snape once his trachea tubes had been removed, but before she knew Snape had done this, she had seriously considered asking her parents about new teeth for 'a friend.' A knock came to her door. Her mother and father came in, carrying a large brown owl Hermione had never seen before. "This is for all of us. I think it's time we levelled with one another." Their tone was not accusatory, but rather resolved for some reason.

"Hermione, we know about Harry, his being alive that is. We've known it all along. Your headmaster asked us not to reveal the things we are about to tell you, until now. It's so hard to begin." Mrs Granger sat down on Hermione's widow seat, remembering the hundreds of times she would come up to call her daughter to dinner, to find her sitting in this very place, reading as always. Now she longed for those simple times.

"Wh...what do you mean?" Hermione asked, wide eyed. The sight of her father carrying an owl and her mother opening a magically sealed envelope as if she'd been opening junk mail, was unnerving. She wondered if she was dreaming.

"Oh," said Mrs Granger, upon opening the letter. The first part is for you." Hermione seemed unable to read it. "Shall I than dear," Mrs Granger offered sweetly.

"Oh...er," was all Hermione could get out.

"Very well than...Dear Miss Granger, we hope that certain recent unforeseen incidents have not caused you too much distress. You will, upon receipt of this letter, be made privy to information that is intended for your eyes only. This letter, as person to person post, requires the receiver to reveal a certain piece of information that they have never uttered to another living soul. Beware to those who try to open this letter falsely, for the punishment for this act, will be no less than oblivion." Hermione took the attachment, which shook in her hands, or was that her hands shaking? She was reminded of the first time she had met the fat lady who guarded the entrance to Griffindor Tower. She almost dropped it, when she realized that the envelope had eyes, and indeed a crude face, similar to the sorting hat.

"Well, go on than, tell us your delicious secret, deary, we don't have all day." The eyes focussed on the waiting owl. This was being put on the spot big time. She looked at her parents, who looked at the windows or the door, or anything to give her a break. It was as if they had been expecting this, that had unnerved her even more.

"We're waiting, Her-my-own-ninny." She just stared at the envelope which had pronounced her name the same as Viktor Krum had done in her fourth year during the tri wizard tournament events and yule ball, at which he'd been her date. She plucked up her courage with a slight blushing grin. "I fancy," she said out loud, leaning closer and whispering her choice, based on her sudden recollection of Viktor Krum's mispronunciation of her name.

"Denied," the envelope simply said, as it made to tuck itself back into it's pouch.

"Oh, alright!" she relented. "Wait...I fancy.." her voice was inaudible.

"You ought to tell him, than, I expect he fancies you too. You're cute!" The envelope vanished, leaving Hermione holding specially embossed parchment from Albus Dumbledore himself.

The letter read, 'First of all, Miss Granger, I must tell you once again how much your honesty has always struck me, but now I must ask you to become part of a conspiracy which will require a certain amount of...there's no getting around this...lying on your part as well as your parents, Ron, Harry and everyone that is involved. If there were other avenues we might take, I would never advocate fabrication, however I have always taught you about the greater good, something which is invaluable as a guide to us in the Order. Sometimes we must sacrifice a belief to sway a situation to our favour. If it were not life and death for our young friend, as well as for one of our most at risk Order members, I would not direct such orders be taken.

I must ask for your faith in me at this point. Your parents have made their own pledge of sorts to me one night approximately three weeks ago. 'The night Harry was attacked?' Hermione asked her already racing brain. What came next, reminded her of the annoying muggle telephone directories, 'state yes or no to the following question,' Hermione Jane Granger. Do you swear to uphold the Order's directive on the following subject matter? The letter asked. Her parents nodded that she should answer in the affirmative.

"Al...alright.." Hermione's answer sounded more like a question. "Yes or no." the parchment reminded her rather impatiently. "Oh, alright...yes, I mean."

The letter simply stopped talking and ceased to have any purpose. It's final order was to Hermione's parents. "It is now safe to proceed," and it dissolved, along with the envelope and pouch.

Information from her world, a world she had believed her parents knew little about, and she'd been right until three weeks ago, came from the most unlikely source she could ever have imagined, her parents. It seemed they'd become heavily involved in espionage on behalf of the Order. It was all just too much of a shock. She didn't know where to begin.

"Water, dear?" Mrs Granger asked, handing her a cup. She took a sip just to break the tension.

"What's going on?" was all Hermione, the academic genius, could think to ask.

"Well, it's kind of hard to begin. Difficult to explain." Mr. Granger paced the floor, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "First of all, we should tell you we know everything, including that pledge you made, which we will discuss in full after we fill you in."

"Fill me in?" she thought. This was the most bizarre conversation she had ever had with her muggle parents, which prompted her first question. "But you are...what wizards call...muggles aren't you?" she asked, not sure if an answer in the affirmative or negative would be better at this point.

"Oh yes, still put our trousers on one leg at a time," Mr. Granger chuckled, making Hermione wonder just how her dad thought wizards would get dressed on a day to day basis. After all, even she knew that dressing charms were more time consuming and taxing than just dressing manually. 'Yes' they were still muggles, and how! She decided.

"How did you know about Harry?"

"We received a person to person owl from Professor Dumbledore, asking us come immediately to a place called St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries or some such, so we were worried that you were hurt. We didn't quite catch the name. When we arrived, having followed the directions, we were relieved it wasn't you. Your potions master was there, gravely injured and being treated by Healers. Your headmaster informed us that he had been in a duel, a duel to the death, for which he must never be caught, or else it would put Harry and of course his friends at greater risk." Mrs Granger, who had taken up the story, looked at her daughter with great concern. "Anyhow, the long and short of it is, the person who was killed was a very important supporter of Voldemort, a bad guy," she said, as though she needed to simplify this for Hermione. If she really knew how deeply involved Hermione was in the fight against these 'bad guys,' deatheaters as the wizarding world knew them, with her pledge to the Order, she would have have shunned all wizarding correspondence, like the Dursley's had done, but for at least a pure minded reason, to protect their only child. Hermione was both chilled and impressed by how they had said Voldemort's name without flinching, even though she supposed they couldn't know the magnitude of his evil and what his intentions were.

"Anyway," Hermione's father continued, "It would go extremely bad for this Professor of Potions of yours, if it was ever revealed that it had been he who had killed this Lestrange man. That was the name, wasn't it dear?"he asked his wife, who nodded in the affirmative.

"Wait! What?" Hermione was going to have a fit. "Lestrange? But his wife Bellatrix came to Harry's room recently to spy..." Now, she shuddered heavily, appreciating only now how much closer to death by revenge that Harry had been. As one of the few admitted Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban who had escaped and been killed so quickly, Lestrange would become a martyr for other, faithful Death Eaters. Not that they had much loyalty, but an overzealous Death Eater might forget that Harry was for Voldemort only, and kill Harry themselves. This left Harry more open to surprise attack, as yet all Death Eater were not identified, and after all , Hermione remembered miserably, Bellatrix Lestrange, the widow of the dead death eater, was already responsible for killing Harry's Godfather. She had been cocked and primed to kill even before the death of her husband.

"It seems all that remained of this chap who was killed by your Professor of Potions, was his skull and teeth only. Your headmaster learned that, although presented as a pure blood, he had in fact been raised by his muggle grandmother. We were given the skull and teeth and asked to compare the teeth to his old dental records from when he was a child of approximately eleven. We found old Mr. Mineas over on Horsecart Street had been his dentist. He's almost retirement age now. He looked up files for us and gave us the old x-rays and charts without question, thankfully. They matched the teeth perfectly. When we informed Professor Dumbledore, who knew already of course, he asked us to help."

"How?" Hermione had resigned herself to the fact that her seemingly boring parents had started a whole new life , not unlike that of a television coroner. Professor Dumbledore had taken the skull and hidden it in a secret location and had made it possible for the police to find it in this altered location from where it had been originally located in the woods near where Harry had been attacked. The police had been magically inclined to investigate, 'coincidentally' contacting the Grangers, who as dentists, just happened to have matching dental records. It had all been well orchestrated. The muggle news would start the rumour that during one of the worst storms of the century, this unfortunate gentlemen had been killed, picked up by a funnel cloud and tossed into the lion's enclosure at the zoo, where he had gone unnoticed due to the aftermath of the storms. Dumbledore had been sure to etch some very convincing teeth marks in the skull. Voldemort and Bellatrix would have to believe that her husband had been knocked cold by the funnel cloud, making it impossible to apparate or use his wand and had become supper for the lions. They must never find out that Lestrange had met his end fighting one whom he'd considered friend. The very basis of the Order would be dealt a crushing blow if this were to happen. The need for information from Snape, was too great to risk his being caught as a traitor. Voldemort and Bellatrix, would no doubt, just have to take the news as truth.

Hermione sat down...hard. So, Snape was, as they had all suspected, a double agent. How much longer could he keep up his guise after slaying one of his own? The fact that her parents had been so involved in this swift turn of events, prompted Hermione to question those she would least have expected to rely on information from. Surely if they knew all this, they knew where Harry and Ron were.

"Well, dear, yes we do know how much you've been through wondering where they are. All we can tell you is that they are safe, but I'm afraid you'll be making the trip to Hogwarts this year alone. Now Hermione knew how Harry had felt all along. It was too much to sit and imagine the trip back to school alone, having questions thrown at her, that even she could not answer. Harry had been whisked away, condition unknown, and now Ron would not be returning to Hogwarts either, as far as she knew.

Hermione now realized that she had never really made any friends. Oh sure, she had some, like Ginny who wasn't in her year, and Neville, and some like Luna Lovegood, who was an acquaintance at best. It would be lonely to face classes without them. She missed them terribly already after only a few days. She could hear Malfoy's taunts about the broken musketeers already.

Similar to the scene in the Dursley's kitchen the previous years, owls kept coming to the second floor window of Hermione's room. The last letter was addressed to her personally. It was from Tyler. "Wow, that Tyler catches on quick for a first year, already using owl post.

"Dear Hermione, Professor Dumbledore has asked me to let you know that you are to report to Professor McGonagall's office directly upon your arrival to school. This place is awesome, Hermione. I'm learning so much." Hermione had been told that Tyler had been sent to Hogwarts early to learn some basics he would need to begin school, but even Hermione fancied she'd have been bored and lonely even with the library all to herself. The PS was what made Hermione jump with excitement, and a shocked bit of embarrassment. "PS : The one who fancies you says "hi".and "no we didn't tell him ha ha!"Hermione had tears in her eyes of joy and relief. At least she knew where one of her best friends was, and her secret was safe, and he wasn't alone, he had Tyler to talk to.

Harry and Ron were just having breakfast when Hermione's owl returned in reply. They, of course had no idea it had been sent, but somehow in London, Hermione slept better just knowing that they were at least safe. Tyler had accidentally left the reply from Hermione on the table that Madame Pomfrey usually used for writing her notes. Ron, who was still very weak from blood loss, stumbled out of bed to retrieve it, knowing that it was wrong to read someone else's mail, but desperate for outside information. After all, how private could an eleven year old's mail be?

"It's from Hermione!" Ron sat back down onto his bed. He was surprised how dizzy he'd become just by standing up. 'Oooooooh, my head, " he swayed and laid back for a minute, keeping Harry in agony for information.

"Ron, come on mate, get it together," Harry prodded rather unsympathetically, considering Ron was only in this condition because he'd wanted to see him so badly in the first place. "Sorry," he caught himself.

"Dear Tyler, things are sure weird around here. I don't know how much you know, but I'm guessing it's more than me, and I don't begrudge you this. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore has his reasons..." The pause in the letter spoke volumes. Hermione, although not jealous, did have misgivings about Tyler knowing personal information about her, for they had just met, and she never told anyone about the one she fancied. "Do you know where my other friend is? No one else will tell me. Sincerely, Hermione...PS Don't tell anyone who I fancy, he's oblivious to it and probably is in no fit shape to take in this information just now anyway."

Ron and Harry had both been really thick when it came to girl's signals about likes and dislikes in the past, and now it seemed, nothing had changed. Harry had always suspected that Ron had liked Hermione, judging by the way he acted whenever Hermione would get a letter from Viktor Krum, the boy she had gone to the Yule Ball with two years ago. Ron always became sulky and moody and a little annoying at the mere mention of Krum's name. Even now, Ron was sulking, remembering Harry's just too happy attitude whenever Cho had even looked at him sideways, or smiled in his general direction. Ron became even sulkier, at reading the note, figuring that Hermione could not possibly have meant he or Harry, although the possibility of Tyler knowing Viktor Krum was almost nil. Ron and Harry looked awkwardly at one another, and made the only decision that made sense. Carry on like it had always been, the three of them being best friends. Ron looked as though he were about to ask Harry a question, but thought the better of it. Truth be told, Harry hadn't given Cho another thought in the romantic sense. There was someone else who had caught his eye recently, but he vowed he wouldn't show it, no matter how many times she crept into his thoughts, particularly when he was having a hard time of things. No, he couldn't do that to her...and it could complicate his friendship with Ron as well. Harry decided to just concentrate on Ron's musings about girls at the moment, while he tried to squash his own feelings about a certain girl.

"What is, Ron," Harry asked. Concerned at the face Ron had just pulled.

"Oh, n...nothing...You reckon Krum and Hermione'll ever see each other in person again?" He sounded like he wanted, no needed Harry to say no, but Ron would still expect that someday, they would bump into one another. Viktor was no longer in school and he still played professional Quidditch.

"You know, Ron," Harry consoled his friend, "I expect our Vicky has moved on. I mean, he's finished with school, travelling the world. I think it highly unlikely that he'll carry a torch for Hermione. That's quite a gap." Harry tried to hide his smile when Ron seemed to relax a bit with the reasoning he had just presented.

It wasn't long before Harry felt depressed again. Ron, at least might have time to find out about a love life, if he didn't get himself killed for just knowing him. Harry doubted that he would have any dating prospects this year. After all, he thought miserably, look at me. He saw his reflection in the bedside table which had been pulled over to his bed for breakfast. The thin pale boy that stared back didn't even feel like it was him.

Seeing Harry gazing sadly at his reflection, it was Ron's turn to console. "Don't worry, mate, I'll work out with you. Even Madame Pomfrey says once you're up, it'll all come back to you." Harry suddenly grinned, picturing Ron lifting weights and jogging. Ron's knowledge of muggle workouts was laughable, but to show his sincerity in his offer, Ron produced a book from his bedside table that he and Hermione had been studying for Harry's recovery.

"Now, before you say anything, yes, it's by Lockhart, but it's legit. He copied it from the very best, besides you have to admit it, he was in really good shape, Hermione thought so, anyway," he grumbled. Harry just shook his head. Harry had tried not to look at his surgical scar all the time. He knew there would be no change from two hours ago. The place where the staples had been was still rather itchy and uncomfortable. He ran a hand along the rough surface of his skin., and Ron consoled him. "Besides Harry, girls love scars."

"Good news, Harry!" Tyler beamed, bringing in the breakfast trays. Harry thought if he had to eat one more bowl of jelly or porridge, he would go mad. "Voila!" Tyler said as he removed the tray's lid. "You're finally allowed to eat." Harry was more than pleased to see an egg and cheese omelette, but a little jealous of Ron's added toast and bacon. "Sorry Harry, I tried," Tyler shrugged. "They don't want you to chew much yet." It was the best thing Harry had ever tasted, but as Ron bolted down his whole breakfast, Harry became full only half way through his.

"It's just because you haven't eaten in awhile. Pretty soon, your appetite will come back. You should finish your protein shake. Madame Pomfrey let my mom make it this time. She added something that it lacked before today...flavour!" Tyler whispered the last part, not wanting the Matron to hear him. Sure enough, it was wonderful, every bit as good as the chocolate shakes he'd had at Florean Fortescue's ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. Harry had dreaded these shakes before, being ordered to drink them six times a day. "Mum's making you a strawberry one for lunch." It was amazing that something as simple as chocolate could make him feel better, but than again, it had been the restorative that was used after one was exposed to Dementors. It now dawned on Harry, that Stephanie had also made breakfast. He wondered where all the house-elfs were, because Tyler had also cleared the dishes. The fact that the house-elfs were never seen, didn't make it any less obvious that they weren't there, and Ron had noticed the difference.

"Maybe Hermione mailed them all clothing or something," he joked, remembering the knitted hats Hermione had made for her house elf liberation crusade, also known as S.P.E.W. Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare. "Maybe she finally got them holidays," Ron mused.

Harry and Ron both felt extremely sleepy after such a large breakfast, but neither of them wanted to give in. It was like admitting you were weak. Secretly, they were both grateful when Madame Pomfrey ordered them to rest. They complied obediently, both nodding off to sleep with a thousand questions in their heads. An overwhelming sense of one another had come over them this summer, and even somehow in sleep, they felt connected. Almost immediately, they began to dream...

Harry lifted clumsily into the air at first, for a peaceful flight. A strong humid breeze, a little too strong for his abilities came up. Soon it became a full whirling wind. A panic seized him that Voldemort was attacking him again with tornadoes. This time he wasn't on his Firebolt, no, this time, he was using his wings. His cat like senses picked up the change in the air like his human ones had never done.

Harry was whipped backwards into a funnel cloud, and he landed, hovering with his giant wings flapping as easily as treading water, than horror struck him as Voldemort appeared, riding a steed of bone and earth. The hideous creature looked long dead, removed from it's ancient grave, with it's burial mud still clinging to it's carcass. It's wings were so tattered, that they looked like the long wrecked sails of a ship that had beaten against the rocks for a hundred years. Harry could not fathom how it could possibly fly. It's eyeless sockets stared mournfully at him, as though it was not a willing participant in it's rider's quest, but Voldemort looked right through him, his red slit eyes, so inhuman. For one who so desperately wanted immortality in human form, Harry felt Voldemort had become less human than he would have thought possible.

They were in the eye of the funnel cloud, calm, but deafeningly loud. Harry's scar burned like fire had been set in his scalp, and he put his hand up automatically to touch it, but he scratched his own forehead and eye in the attempt. Blood obscured his vision before he could even defend himself and Voldemort raised his wand to kill him at last.

Ron flew swiftly toward Harry. Somehow he just knew that Harry had been the Griffin he had seen pulled back into the funnel cloud. He knew he was dreaming, so he waited for the opportune moment to duck into the funnel cloud. He was small and very agile, and when he penetrated the funnel cloud, a sight greeted him that he did not expect, and it did not feel like a dream anymore. Ron was not prone to nightmares that had plagued Harry for most of his life.

Harry was no longer a Griffin, but just a boy, standing blindly, blood trickling down his face as Voldemort laughed maliciously and taunted him. "You thought that being an animagus would save you, but look, it's only gotten you further away from help than you've ever been, save once only," he sneered viciously. " You will not find that same kind of help here." Harry barely made out a small bird descend onto Voldemort's arm as he raised his wand to kill. Ron let out a strangled cry and fell.

They awoke in varying states of fear. They knew they had been dreaming, but neither knew that the other had had the exact same dream.

'Ugh!" Ron opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor. Tyler was standing wide- eyed over him." My arm, I think it's broken," he moaned, as he chanced a look at it, noticing that there were a few feathers strewn about the floor next to him. In his dream, Voldemort had hit his wing and it had broken. Somehow, he figured he must still be dreaming. Madame Pomfrey had sent for Professor Snape, who seemed perturbed at having been aroused at this early hour. He became very quickly, very interested and fearful. Madame Pomfrey mended Ron's arm in a wink, and bandaged it, while Snape gave him a pain killing potion.

Ron looked over at Harry miserably. His face had been magically healed by madame Pomfrey, but he now had a patch over his left eye. "Your arm was broken when you fell out of bed," Tyler informed Ron. "You and Harry were both having nightmares at exactly the same time." Tyler seemed perplexed by this. "Poor Harry was fighting so hard, he scratched himself up really bad." Ron felt more miserable for Harry. He had endured these kinds of dreams all his life as far as Ron knew, not knowing that these dreams were different by a long shot. Ron hoped that the dreams were just a coincidence. He couldn't live in Harry's head. He didn't even know how Harry lived there.

Harry awoke and removed his oxygen mask, upon seeing Snape standing over him and informing him that this was exactly why he needed to take his occlumency studies more seriously this year. "You can be taught to avoid these dreams." Snape looked over at Ron, appraising him, as if really seeing him for the first time. "We will discuss this later, you and I, Mr. Weasley," Snape informed Ron as his narrowed eyes roved over Ron's new wounds. Snape could be heard telling the Matron, that from now on, her patients were to be given a dreamless sleep potion every time they so much as napped or felt like they were dozing off. Neither of them at this point felt ready to attempt sleep again anyway.

There was just no sense beating around the bush any longer. Ron and Harry both knew what had happened now that these extraordinary measures were being taken by Professor Snape. They both had the same nightmare, but how? At least Ron felt a tiny bit better, having found out that the feathers around him as he laid on the floor, had come from his feather pillow that had ripped in his struggle and not from his body from the dream. Ron tried to lighten the moment for some reason. "There you have it, you're a giant magical Griffin and I must have been paying too much attention to Hermione when she did her Muggle Studies homework on hobbies of Muggles around the world. Birdwatching of all things. I think I saw a picture of that little bird I seemed to be doomed to resemble from North America in her textbook. Hermione assured me that birdwatching can be very exciting. Truth is, the only bird I'm interested in watching is her...and the golden snitch..."

In happier circumstances, Harry would have caught Ron's remark about Hermione and why all of a sudden he was so interested in her school subjects, unless he could copy something from her, but in light of the disturbing dreams, all he could think clearly enough about was the whereabouts of their friend. "Ron?" Harry asked very seriously... "Hermione...did you see?"

"No, but Harry, she's not here." There was no sense denying what they both knew had started to happen ever since Harry had been attacked. Something had changed drastically between them all. There was a link between them that was beyond friendship. The three of them had each had telepathic inner sightings of their two friends, but not knowing whether it was real or over active imaginations due to the stresses of the past summer, they hadn't really talked openly about it. Now they both wished that Hermione could have been with them, but not harmed. She was so much more knowledgeable about everything and would probably be able to explain this new phenomenon.

Ron and Harry could never know that, Hermione, back in London, awoke upon hearing her mother's scream. "Hermione, no!" Mrs Granger was lying on the floor beside her daughter, yelling loudly for her husband to come quickly. Mr. Granger entered quickly and knelt down next to Hermione, whom it seemed, had been sleep walking. Her mother straightened her bed and Mr. Granger helped her onto it. "Hermione! What on earth..." Mrs. Granger began tearfully.

"I...I was dreaming...at least I think I was." She seemed so confused that Mrs Granger felt they should call a doctor. "No, please. I'm alright, really.." she protested. "It was just a dream. She sounded so unsure.

"But Hermione, you looked like you were about to jump out of the window. You could have been killed. How long have you been sleep walking?" Mrs Granger was very anxious and just a little curious that if this wasn't the first time something so dangerous had happened, why they hadn't been notified.

"I...I don't think I was...sleep walking that is," Hermione now admitted, becoming scared.

"That's it. I'm calling a doctor. You must be ill or something." Mr Granger stated firmly, reaching for the telephone, before Hermione stopped him. "I feel fine...really, it's just that I was dreaming I was a large owl, and..." She didn't want to tell them the rest. Hermione had seen the Griffin and the Killdeer which she, having an almost photographic memory, easily recalled and identified from her muggle studies textbook on birdwatching. She had seen Voldemort follow them into the heart of the funnel cloud. She had been taking off in flight to save them. She shuddered horribly, realizing what she had been about to do.

"You're shivering dear," Mrs Granger said, covering Hermione's shoulders, while feeling her forehead. It had been so vividly real. She was terrified for Ron and Harry. She hadn't gotten to them. She had been woken up, but then, a hard smack into the ground below her window, and she may never have woken up again.

"Dad," Hermione pleaded, "that other owl is still here. Can't we just send an owl to Professor Dumbledore and ask him about my dream? I don't need a doctor, just some answers." She stood up abruptly, going to the window, which her parents had locked firmly. Staring out through the reflection of the room, she wondered if Harry and Ron were safe. Mr. and Mrs Granger grudgingly agreed to forego the doctor, but Mrs Granger sat in the window seat, reading a book all night, while Mr Granger checked in constantly. The owl had been sent, detailing Hermione's dream, and the accompanying dangerous sleep walk.

It was late morning when the owl returned with a reply. The first page was for Mr. and Mrs Granger. They read it together, looking disappointed, but not surprised. They handed the letter to Hermione.

Dear Miss Granger:

As you probably already suspect, your friends are here. It seems you were delayed by either time or distance or both, to be involved in the telephotus dream which your friend's were also drawn into. We have discussed among ourselves, Professor Snape, Madame Pomfrey and indeed the young friend of Harry's, who is telepathic to a degree we have not yet gauged. We feel it best for you to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible, pending permission from your parents, of course. At the very least, you must take this potion every time you sleep and we will find a way to sort this all out upon your return. I must caution you. Do not even nod without the potion, as you will be alone in your dreams, as your friends are being prescribed the potion for dreamless sleep as well. I know you are clever and book learned, but do not, under any circumstance, try fixing this yourself. Constant Vigilance! Professor M. McGonagall Professor A. Dumbledore.

PS If it is your parents wish for you to return early, be awaiting Professor Lupin, Moody and Tonks. They will collect you at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning.

It was with much trepidation that Hermione's parents decided that it would be best for Hermione to return to school a few days early. They knew that their daughter had been different from birth. They had gladly accepted that she was a witch, but now, even they, as muggles, suspected that somehow there was even more to their child than just magical aptitudes.

Mr. Weasley had learned how to use a muggle telephone after the unfortunate incident when Ron had called the Dursley household to talk to Harry and had messed up spectacularly. The Weasleys had just learned themselves that their son had been taken to Hogwarts Hospital Wing. They were very relieved that Snape had come through for them. Mr. Granger took the call, and they all felt better knowing that at least the three friends would be reunited in the safest place they could be at this dangerous time. Mrs. Weasley had a surprise invitation for the Grangers. They would be allowed to accompany their daughter and her escorts and the Weasleys, who would be visiting Ron.

Mrs. Weasley had been so worried, she hadn't slept since Ron's departure, and if George thought his mother fussed when they got colds or minor ailments, it was nothing compared to the constant potions, warm soup, naps and every other remedy she could think of now that he was on the official wounded list. He couldn't wait for her to go to Hogwarts to visit Ron, so he could rest from all the fussing. At one point, she had woken him up to give him a sleeping potion.

Usually, Mrs Weasley only knitted jumpers for Christmas, now , however, with all the worry, she was in a knitting frenzy, along with Professor McGonagall, who seemed quite addicted to it too. Tonks, somewhat of a tomboy, had begged Mrs. Weasley to teach her to knit and Mrs Weasley was only too happy to pass on her talents, but in the end, it was obvious which jumper had been knitted by her. Mrs. Weasley showed her gifts for Ron and Harry to the Grangers as the Hogwarts Express pulled out from platform nine and three quarters. The old train hadn't seen this much use in many years. Hermione almost choked on her tea when she saw what had been knitted on the jumpers. The Griffin on the sweater for Harry was not unusual as this was after all, the Griffindor symbol, but what was startling was the killdeer bird on Ron's jumper. No one had given details of the strange dream she had and she wondered how on earth anyone would know what she seen, especially about a bird that was indigenous to England. "Here you go dear, we couldn't forget you," said Mrs Weasley, taking Hermione's sudden look of surprise as feeling left out. Hermione unfolded the soft jumper and found, not surprisingly now, a beautiful large tawney owl had been knitted on the front of hers. How could they know? Did they know?

"It gets cold in that old castle, even in late summer," Mrs Weasley informed the Grangers. "Especially now that the fires aren't lit by the house-elfs all summer anymore as they are on holidays. Hermione felt a distinct knowing appraisal from Professor McGonagall as she put the heavy sweater on to please Mrs Weasley. It did make her feel somewhat more cozy, as she had been rather cold since she had nearly fallen, rather jumped from her window.

Hermione, who had been so excited and happy at the prospect of returning to the school early, felt just a little apprehensive now that the horseless carriages had pulled up. She made no indication that she could actually see the Thestrals, but this time, it was Professor Moody who gave her a knowing look. His one magical eye roved over the Thestral's body, and he shivered slightly. It was obvious he'd seen death. Just one glance at him would tell anyone that. Hermione felt more nervous than she had on the day of her sorting at the age of eleven.

When she entered the hospital wing, Ron would have sprung up to greet her in an instant, but given what had happened last time he'd rushed, he stood up slowly and Hermione nearly knocked him down with an enormous hug of relief. He nearly fell over on his own, when she let go to rush to Harry to hug him too. Her approach was somewhat different this time, as she did not want to hurt him. "Harry! Your casts are gone! Your face is nearly healed. You look wonderful!" Madame Pomfrey had let him remove the eye patch earlier and had finished healing his face before Hermione had arrived. Harry was so grateful, as he couldn't have stood to hear more admonishments of 'be careful' and such. Hermione hugged him gently but closely. Finally she did the only thing she could, and burst into tears. Ron came over and sat on the edge of Harry's bed.

Harry was relieved when Ron finally spoke, taking Hermione's hand. "Hermione, it's alright." Hermione sniffled, her puffy red eyes ceasing to leak the enormous tears down the front of the new jumper, which neither Ron nor Harry had yet noticed. Even if either of them ever took notice of her wardrobe, they never had never said anything positive or negative about it, but once, at the beginning of the Yule Ball, she could have sworn that they had seen her in a whole different light. Of course the very next day, they went back to their usual oblivious selves.

"It's alright?" Harry thought to himself. That's what works for him? When I said it last year to Cho, she just said I was being callous.' Maybe it was the way Ron had said it. Harry studied his vocal inflections in his mind. He wanted to be ready for when and if Cho ever turned the water works on again in front of him, than he realized he was being insensitive. Ron had responded to Hermione's obvious distress appropriately, when Harry, with Cho, had been basically reacting with the same tact as if one of his teammates felt badly about losing a Quidditch match. He now had a micro self- examination. Maybe he was incapable of consoling others, but no, he defended himself, he had at least helped Neville to become more self- assured. No longer was Neville introverted and afraid of his own shadow. "Maybe," Harry thought to himself, coming back to the same conclusion, he just didn't understand girls. He didn't have much time for this self evaluation. It was just so great to have Hermione back with them. Harry almost felt they could face anything together. With this thought, something still seemed incomplete for Harry.

With Mr and Mrs Weasley here, he was looking for the youngest member of their famiy as well, for reasons he couldn't explain if he'd wanted to. Ginny had been asked to stay at Grimmauld Place and help look after George, a task she took willingly. It would be good to get back at at least one of the matching set, who had given her fake medicine when she had dragon pox as a small child, causing her spots, typical of the common childhood ailment, to be shaped as actual dragons of every colour of the rainbow. Now, George would miss Mrs Weasleys coddling.

There was very little time for a happy reunion, as once again, the adults were running the show. Hermione did not know that Ron and Harry had not been told of her dream, so as she related the details to them, Ron and Harry gave each other a nervous glance. They had to admit that they would have been shocked if she had not been drawn into their dream, and a little lost. Hermione had always been the brains behind the operation, or at least the one who forced them to use their own brains. With these telephotus dreams, as Dumbledore had called them in his letter to Hermione, they would need all the information they could get to find out how to keep themselves and each from having them. At this point, none of them knew how serious the situation was, for even Hermione had not studied telephotus dreams, as they were so very rare.

All three of them had wanted desperately to ask for some time alone, but felt awkward in such formidable and impressive company. Professor Dumbledore had asked the Weasleys and the Grangers to accompany him to his office, leaving them with Professor Lupin, Moody, Snape and Tonks.

Mrs Granger seemed reluctant to leave, until Madame Pomfrey assured them that Hermione would be fine. After the parents had left, Madame Pomfrey did something that none of them had expected. She dismissed the Professors and Tonks, saying she needed to attend to Ron and Harry. No one argued with the Matron, it seemed. It was 'yes ma'am,' all the way for some reason. She was a very respected lady. Taking her at her word, Harry and Ron waited for the fussing to commence, but Madame Pomfrey instead smiled, a slight worry in the effort, and said, "Now I believe you children have some catching up to do." They would have taken offense to her having called them children, but leaving them to talk alone in peace, more than made up for the slip.

Since Ron and Harry already knew their own part of the dream, they let Hermione tell them about hers. When they heard what she'd almost done to come to save them, they were horrified. They now knew what all the fuss was about. They had to gain control of these telephotus dreams or one of them, indeed all of them, could be killed. There was only one thing Harry and Ron hadn't considered. The three of them could confirm that they had been present in the dream, but had Voldemort also been part of it? Had he really been there, or had he been a manifestation of their worst fears, played to Ron and Hermione like a tape, from Harry's horrible memories of the dark lord and his face to face dealings with him? The thought made them all shudder. Voldemort had already occupied some of Harry's thoughts. His emotions had been visible to Harry last year, the good and the bad. It wasn't like Harry being used to it helped. He never would be used to that brutal invasion of his mind, but poor Ron and Hermione had been temporarily struck silent, wondering if Voldemort had actually seen them too, and wondering how Harry had survived Voldemort all this time with constant fears like this new one she and Ron faced for the first time.


	18. Sleep In Pieces

A/N HI everyone! I have to admit to being almost computer illiterate, so I mistakenly posted my old chapter seventeen. I have a beta reader now, and she was kind enough to proof read chapter seventeen for me and I accidentally posted the un corrected version. If you could, please read the part about the killdeer at least over again. It will explain that part much better now. Thank you to Rosina Ferguson for proof reading for me. She explained that Killdeers are not native to Britain, but I have found a way to keep Ron's animagus form by explaining it. Rosina Ferguson was nice enough to take her time to read this for me and 'Brit Pick' it for me. Sorry about the confusion! In a few chapters, I will specifically thank my reviewers. For now, all I can say, is that I'm overwhelmed by your kindness and you are wonderful for helping me enjoy this hobby.

Somehow, Hermione managed to convince herself that the dark lord had nothing to do with their experiences in the dream they had all shared. She honestly felt that it had been some sort of evolution awoken in them, born out of the necessity to survive. Always their Hermione, she began making plans as to how they could use these telephotus dreams to their advantage. She just needed to lock herself up in the library to consult reference manuals, although she had to admit, she had never even heard of this brand of magic.

When Madame Pomfrey felt that the 'children' had had enough serious talk for the day, she ordered them to occupy themselves with something of a more recreational nature. After all, there were only three more days to the start of school. For once, Hermione wasn't thinking about studying for the school start up, but was more interested in their secret Defence Against The Dark Arts lessons, and learning how to master these telephotus dreams. Ron almost choked on his supper when Hermione said, "after all, once Voldemort's defeated, we can always repeat the school year if we fail." Not that she planned to fail, but she knew that they needed to take care of the most important things first. Ron had always, right from the beginning, pointed out that Hermione needed to sort out her priorities. Apparently she had. "After all, we have to remain alive if we're to get a proper education," she reasoned, making Ron smile in spite of himself.

"What?" she said, throwing a pillow at him.

"Oh nothing." He tossed it back at her with his good arm. Hermione than threw a pillow at Harry, and than regretted it.

"Oh, I didn't hurt you Harry, did I?" She was so concerned.

"Hermione, it's a pillow," Harry replied a little harshly, to which she replied with two more pillows in quick succession, until they all had a laugh like they hadn't done in ages. Somehow, they all felt better.

When evening arrived, with no word from the meeting the adults were having upstairs, Madame Pomfrey finally gave in to Stephanie's suggestion that Harry be allowed to have cookies and milk. Once again, the three friends felt that somehow they were still being treated like children, but who in their right mind would turn down milk and cookies. 'Not I for one!' thought Harry as he had been smelling the aroma of the baking cookies wafting through the hospital wing all evening, and was feeling annoyed that he wouldn't be allowed to have any.

Harry sat eating double chocolate chip cookie after cookie. He'd downed two glasses of milk, before even answering a question which had been posed to him a full three minutes earlier. "How do you like mom's cookies?" Tyler laughed. Harry smiled in reply. His mouth was full. "Good thing mom made a double batch!" Tyler marvelled.

Ron and Hermione were happy to see Harry enjoy the cookies without any obvious jaw problems. "Well, that's it Mr. Potter, you are hereby fit to eat anything you wish, however I would like you to continue with your protein shakes, as you are still too thin." Madame Pomfrey observed .

The milk and cookies had produced the usual side effects, sleepiness. Hermione kissed Harry and Ron on the forehead and made her way to Stephanie and Tyler's dorms. She would sleep there tonight as meetings with her parents would go on into the wee hours of the morning, and she was to be observed while sleeping somewhat. They had taken their potion for a dreamless sleep together, trying to lighten the mood by clanking glasses together as if it were something to celebrate.

During the next three nights as the adults still had no idea what to do about the telephotus dreams, it became apparent that potion for a dreamless sleep, while a wonderful relief and respite from hurt for one or two days, was not ideal for long term use. No one had considered that the dream phase of sleep, also known as rapid eye movement, was an essential part of the sleep cycle, and without it , sleep becomes virtually useless. The three of them were all lethargic and unable to concentrate after only two days. Hermione knew she could never pay attention in class with no sleep.

It had been discussed that the three of them would sleep in shifts, until they protested that the dreams were so real, that Voldemort could kill them off one by one, until he got the one he had wanted all along. They wouldn't be able to defend themselves. They staunchly refused, Ron and Hermione exchanging significant looks that told the other that they remembered their pledge, no matter how scary and complicated things were getting.

Professor Dumbledore had come up with and rejected a plan that would have charmed the ancient school so that, even in dreams, people could not leave the castle, nor could anyone from the outside penetrate the dreams of those inside. Even with the motto 'for the greater good.' this seemed a huge undertaking, and limiting people's dreams could prove detrimental to their health. They were so very tired, but Hermione managed to suggest that perhaps just a small portion of the school could be charmed against telephotus dreams.

Professor Dumbledore, taking her suggestion, seemed exhausted himself after completing this task. He magically placed walls and ceilings around a section of the hospital wing, for Harry and Ron to sleep and store their belongings, and Harry was pleased to see that it resembled a real dorm now, not a hospital room. Harry was extremely happy when he saw that Dumbledore had brought in their four poster beds. This was so much more comfortable than the hospital beds he had lain in for so long.

Hermione hated to admit it, but she was pleased when her own, somewhat smaller dormitory had a few feminine touches added to it, like a full length mirror, not that she was vain about her appearance, but she was after all getting older, and prefects were supposed to set an example. Ron and Hermione were a little disappointed that Griffindor House would be appointed a supplementary set of prefects as they would no longer share accommodations with their fellows for the time being. They were assured that there would be a solution to their problems soon.

The only problem remaining, was that, in theory, Voldemort would not be able to appear in their dreams while they were in their own dormitories, but the magic ward that had been placed there, would not prevent the three of them from having the telephotus dreams without him.

Hermione, who was usually in a frenzy of brush up study the day before school was to begin, and nagging Ron and Harry and everyone who would listen, to revise, now couldn't seem to care less. They just sat on the edge of Harry's bed, moodily working up to say something. One look at Harry and she felt bad about wanting to express the inconvenience that Voldemort was causing her. They knew the temporary happiness about the reunion would wear off as they were miserable contemplating sleep. The telephotus dreams that were bringing them together in the dream world, had the potential to separate them irrevocably in death.

Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape entered the hospital wing to discuss the plans they had come up with. Ron, Harry and Hermione tried their best to concentrate, despite their exhaustion. Professor Dumbledore conjured chairs for the assembled company of the Grangers, the Weasleys, Stephanie and Tyler and Madame Pomfrey.

Professor Dumbledore began. "This new development of telephotus dreams can be viewed as a negative, and indeed the inherent dangers associated with such dreams, is not something that we intend to take lightly. Having said this, we are thankful that we have caught this early, before any real damage had been done. Harry was just about to protest, pointing to his newly acquired eye injury. Ron was not at all above cough disguising, "hrm broken arm!" to which Harry and Hermione giggled heartily in their tired states. "Yes, Mr. Weasley, I know about your arm and Harry's cuts, we used to do the cough thing when I myself was at school, and I can assure you, that even my generation did not invent sarcasm." He looked squarely at Ron with his square glasses perched on his long nose, and suddenly Ron felt ashamed, which as it turned out, was not Dumbledore's intention at all. "A sense of humour is important in a mission so fraught with peril." he told them kindly. Professor Snape just brooded at them. "Professor Snape, I believe you have come up with the best possible plan. Would you kindly propose it?"

Professor Snape gave his ideas in exactly the same manner as he taught a class, pausing as if he cared whether the muggles in attendance understood. He treated them like Neville Longbottom, in his opinion, second only in ineptitude to Harry Potter. "What we are going to do," he stated., emphasising the 'going to' part, as if there was no room for discussion, and no one here had any doubt that whatever the plan was, it was in concrete, and not merely a proposal to be considered or voted on.

"As you have been informed, our student here," he indicated Tyler, "has been studying occlumency with me in private lessons. It is apparent that he is gifted in the healing of animals and has early animagi recognition potential. He also possess a certain telepathy with those who have even the smallest potential for becoming animagi, however small the possibility is." He eyed the three of them as though he felt his talents quite wasted on this endeavour. He was however, clearly impressed with Tyler, and he showed it.

Tyler has graciously agreed to move into the temporary dorms here while I myself will take up temporary residence in a suite off the hospital wing. The house-elfs as we speak, are moving my personal effects to my adjacent room, which has also been sealed against telephotus dream outside interference. "Yes, what is it Miss Granger?" They could tell that Snape was trying to be cordial in front of Hermione's parents. Harry and Ron exchanged knowing looks.

"Well, sir, it's just that...moving your belongings. Is that really the house elf's job after they've just now returned from summer vacation?" Professor Snape looked like he was trying to count to ten in his mind before answering her, or threatening her, which ever one won out in the moment.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore interceded, sensing conflict which would distract from the purpose of the meeting at hand. "I can assure you that the house elfs are only too pleased to help Professor Snape in his selfless gesture to help you master your telephotus problems. There is also the debt of gratitude that they wish to bestow upon your potions master which we will discuss at much more opportune time." The finality in his tone, made Hermione close her mouth to stifle her tirade about S.P.E.W.

'Debt of gratitude?' thought Harry suspiciously. What could Snape, the arrogant, pure blood loving wizard that he was, have done for house -elfs, which would make them any more loyal than they had always been? Harry pondered this, almost missing the important parts of the meeting.

"As I was saying," Snape's eyes roved over to Hermione as if expecting more interruptions. "If any or all of you is involved in a telephotus dream, it is our goal to break in, and teach you how to get out. Failing this, we will use the time to our advantage. We will learn to do battle effectively in the telephotus dream arena." Snape sounded fascinated and scared at the same time.

"So you're gonna crash our dreams and give us duelling lessons in our sleep," Ron simplified. Snape's eyes narrowed until he decided the remark had not been intended as cheek. "In a word, yes, Mr. Weasley. I believe Mr. golden here," he indicated Tyler, will prove invaluable in connecting yourselves and myself in the dreams.

"Great!" said Harry angrily, catching himself at the startled looks on everyone's faces. He was about to protest how intrusive Snape's presence in his everyday life had become, now it was to be made to become very considerable, invading even his dreams. He swallowed his anger.

"I will of course come in to supervise," Dumbledore assured them. Clearly, he needed no channel to enter dreams. Harry now remembered Dumbledore's words of encouragement when he had been giving up on the operating table back at St. Mungos. Harry wondered if there was anything his headmaster could not do, which made remembering the prophecy at this time all the more confusing. Why did he have defeat the dark lord, or be defeated by him? Why, other than that horrible prophecy could Dumbledore not do it? He wasn't bold enough to ask why Dumbledore couldn't stand in for him, but Dumbledore was the only wizard that Voldemort feared, and he was of course, more experienced than Harry, in everything, Harry's thoughts concluded.

Besides all the complicated preparations for the telephotus dreams, there was still a most pressing matter on Harry's mind. He was still dead! How was he supposed to start living again, now that the school was to reopen. Surely he would be spotted by someone, and unprepared, the unfortunate person to see Harry Potter, would probably faint, wake up, tell their story, and be sent back to the hospital wing for hallucinations. The thought of this, momentarily amused Harry, until his fears that everyone would blame him for wide spread serious deception and glory seeking.

As though sensing this apprehension, Ron assured him, "Everyone knows what you're facing now mate. They're not going to hold it against you." the butterflies that Harry usually had in his stomach at the beginning of the school year, even though he considered Hogwarts his home, had now turned into a elephants roaming around in there. He knew that he wouldn't be attending regular classes with Ron and Hermione until he was significantly better, but he suddenly felt lonely in a room full of people.

Mercifully, Professor Dumbledore said he would address the matter of his death, and life, in such a way as to steer any blame completely away from Harry. Indeed, he felt it better that Hermione and Ron miss the first week of regular classes as well. Originally, Ron had been told that he would attend regular classes and sleep in the hospital wing to receive his blood restorative potions and check ups. For Hermione, who thought she didn't care about such things anymore, it was near disaster. Although none of them had missed the beginning of school yet, to Harry it marked the beginning of what he had always feared for those close to him, sacrifice. From their education, to their very lives, they had to live in direct consequence of whatever happened to him, whether they were directly involved or not.

Hermione, who was usually very independent, was now glad that her parents were to stay another night. Mrs Weasley had gone down to meet the horseless carriages which had brought her other children to school one day early. George needed to be seen by Madame Pomfrey to check him out to see if he was fit to return to class, or stay in the hospital wing. No one had wanted to trouble them about the extent of George's injury at the hands of the Order members, so Ron and Harry really didn't know all the details, other than he was recovering fine at Grimauld place, being tended by Ginny, Fred and Charlie, who'd been home for the remainder of the summer.

When Fred and George entered the hospital wing, no one had trouble as they usually did, telling them apart. George looked alright, but he had his arms folded protectively against his chest still. They would be tender for a long time. Fred steered him to a bed nearby, where he was examined thoroughly by Madame Pomfrey. Since it appeared that the overly cautious Matron would not release George to the boy's dorms, she approved of a family accommodation for the Weasley family for the time being. Circumstances were different now.

George was almost glad he'd retuned to school not in tip top shape, when Harry related that Madame Pomfrey had been most displeased to say the least about Ron's condition, and the skiving snack boxes of last year. She felt she must be going soft, for upon seeing him and Fred looking so thoroughly dejected, and secretly being proud of them for returning to school to help the Order and Harry, she did not mention their indiscretions of late. Instead, she instructed George to put on some pyjamas and just relax, while she gave him something for the tenderness caused by the ride there.

Mrs. Weasley had always considered Harry a son, and he felt guilty. Because of him, the three of them were here in the hospital wing, and Percy was an outcast. He was breaking them up, he lamented. He couldn't feel that way anymore after Mrs. Weasley made her way around, fluffing everyone's pillows, including his own. Trust Fred and George to make the most out of any situation. They were using George's bed rest time to come up with new projects for the joke shop, and secretly, they were hoping that one of their old inventions would prove useful to the Order. They may have agreed not to join until April the first, their nineteenth birthday, for Mrs Weasleys sake, but it did not prevent them from helping the Order and Harry in any way they could. They were extremely excited to see the results of the help they had given Harry in the hospital during their long nights with him, but it would not become apparent for some time.

Hagrid came to visit them, and when he'd talked to everyone and welcomed back Fred, George and Ginny, he wanted to talk to Harry alone, which was fine, since Hermione had gone to see her parents and the Weasleys needed a moment, Harry thought.

"It's right good ter see yeh, Harry. Yeah, yeh are lookin better," Hagrid appraised, almost as though he'd received updated reports on Harry's condition at wherever it was he'd been for the last little while. Harry had not seen Hagrid since he'd decided to go ahead with the teaching aptitude tests. Ron and Hermione had seen him last riding Sirius's motorcycle as rear escort for Harry's funeral train, but now they knew that he'd really been there on security detail.

"Hagrid, it's so great to see you." Harry was oddly formal, not knowing what to say. Hagrid broke the awkward reunion with a bear hug for Harry. Just having Hagrid here, somehow made Harry feel better. He had always listened for Hagrid's familiar call of 'firs' years this way!' when he got off the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of every school year except this one. He sometimes envied the first years getting to go across the lake with Hagrid, other times, just enjoying hearing his voice. Somehow, it just wasn't the new beginning without Hagrid there, and although a little winded at the end of the hug, Harry now felt that the beginning was complete, far from ideal, but complete.

"I got a surprise fer yeh', Harry," Hagrid revealed. "Max, here boy!" he whistled. Even Madame Pomfrey smiled as Max settled himself comfortably on Harry's bed. He seemed to know instinctively not to step on Harry's legs. He just lied down, tail wagging next to Harry's feet, and Harry had to admit that the warmth from the dog was actually soothing. "Course Fang's nose was outta joint summat terrible at first, but he's accepted 'im now. Actually shared his food with 'im today."

Hagrid was like the kindly Uncle that all the kids looked forward to seeing. He always took the time to care, and he always had candy. He produced three bars of honeydukes chocolate for his three favourite pupils. Hermione had her parents, Ron had his whole family here, and Harry had thought he'd had no one, until now. Of course, this was no where near the truth, but he never wanted to interfere with the Weasley's private time.

"I jus' wanted to show yeh this," Hagrid said proudly, taking out a wand of polished oak, the size of a small baseball bat. "Mr. Ollivander was able ter repair me old one," he said happily. "It was one 'o the last things me father ever bought me." He looked at his newly repaired wand proudly and lovingly, as though remembering the day he gotten it.

"Congratulations, Hagrid," Harry said warmly. "I always thought you were a brilliant teacher." He was only half truthful. Some of the classes Hagrid had taught had been downright dangerous, but than again, Harry reasoned, so is life. Even in these troubled times in Harry's life, he felt somewhat more like he'd come home, now that he had Max, Hagrid and Hedwig to help fill the void he'd been feeling.

Harry felt he could ask Hagrid anything, but he didn't want anyone else to hear him. "Hagrid, have you ever slept inside Hogwarts since you were expelled, or have you always just stayed in your house on the grounds?" Hagrid knew what Harry wanted to hear, but he had to admit that since his expulsion, he had always stayed in his cabin in the grounds. Hagrid knew that with everyone having their family around on this first night of sleep occlumency, Harry was nervous without anyone there specifically for him. Hagrid did not want Harry to have to voice his request in front of the others, so he cleared his throat loudly and announced that he'd had a small kitchen fire, and would need to stay inside the school this night. Hagrid caught Dumbledore's nod of approval. Of course, Hagrid didn't even have a kitchen. If he had indeed had a fire, the whole one room structure would have been affected. Of course Ron and Hermione knew this, but out of the adults, only Dumbledore knew the difference, and he said nothing, directing Hagrid to the last remaining dorm around the hospital wing.

Despite the sleep deprivation, their load was lightened somewhat by the meeting they had had. Professor Dumbledore lit a small fire and refreshments seemed to come from nowhere. With Hagrid's chocolate, and Dumbledore's marshmallows and graham crackers, they made s'mores like they were having a last camp out before the end of holidays. Harry's marshmallow stick was extra long, to allow him to roast marshmallows from his bed. Harry was touched that Max not only remembered him, but his loyalty seemed to have doubled. He didn't move from Harry's bed. Despite the nervous tension about sleeping this night, they had a good time, until sleep could be put off no longer.

When Hagrid attempted to lift Max from Harry's bed to spend the night with Fang, the dog made himself too heavy to be carried away by a normal person. Knowing that Harry's spirits had been lifted by the dog, Madame Pomfrey grudgingly agreed to let him to stay. With Hedwig, Crookshanks, Pigwigeon, and Max all present, the hospital wing was quickly becoming a petting zoo.

Ron and Hermione had been reassured that their parents would be close. At a time like this, it didn't matter how old you are. Hagrid place his large hand on Harry's shoulder and promised him the same thing. Stephanie tried to make them look forward to the morning by promising a full English breakfast. The house -elfs had returned, but the muggles had no idea what this had meant.

Despite being sixteen, Harry was extremely pleased that Hagrid had caught his feeling of deep unease, and had stayed. Having he and Max nearby made Harry worry that he would become too dependent on others. He had survived at a much younger age alone at the Dursleys, and than there was the problem of relying on someone and having them taken away from you. Sensing Harry's uneasiness about having made a mistake in asking him to stay, Hagrid reassured him. "Remember, everyone needs a family, Nigh' Harry." As Hagrid got up to leave, patting Max's head, Harry reached out and took Hagrid's hand.

"Thanks, Hagrid...really."

"My pleasure, Harry." Hagrid said, sounding very sentimental He was glad to be doing something that made Harry feel better. He would have adopted him as a baby if he could have, and now for the first time, he felt like he was doing something that a father would do. Hagrid took one more look at the boy he held dear to his heart, and left for his dorm.

"Well, this is it, mate, goodnight." Ron sounded as nervous as he was.

"Yeah, night maybe. I don't know about a good one though." Secretly though, they in their room, Hermione in hers, fought sleep for as long as they could. The only thing that kept them from freaking out completely, was the fact that in theory, Voldemort wouldn't be able to penetrate the dreams this time.

As one by one, they all gave in, it was apparent that this would not be a quiet night, like they had hoped. Again, the same warm eery breeze blew, and the sky felt more like home than the earth. Harry didn't even remember taking off. He remained quite logical, for being in a dream, an encouraging point, he felt. This time, there were no funnel clouds, no Voldemort, just tension so thick it was a heavy fog that he could neither see through or hope to get out of.

The logical part of his brain, wanted Ron and Hermione to rest and sleep. The frightened boy silently begged for companionship. Harry felt so guilt ridden when it seemed his fears, though not spoken, had summoned who he knew instantly, was Ron and Hermione.

Ron and Hermione now existed on the same plain of reality as Harry. Each of them now knew that they were dreaming and that they had been summoned by Harry. They could communicate in regular English. Trust Hermione to be logical and analytical at a time like this. "Well, it's clear that we're not just animagi right now. After all, look what happens to people who turn into bats or something like that and they get the bat's brain to go along with it, waking up with a stomach full of mosquitoes remembering nothing." Than Ron got rather insulted, being the smallest creature by far, he found himself checking his intelligence level.

"Ron? You are...all here, aren't you?"

"Yes, Hermione!" he replied testily. But no, we're still not as intelligent as you...happy?"

"I had to check," she reasoned with him.

"Yeah, I know," he conceded. Out of the three of them, Ron always seemed to be the one slightly off to the side, or at least he felt that way. Hermione had always felt he'd carried a chip on his shoulder from being from a family of less monetary means than most of the other Hogwarts students, not to mention having to live up to the high standards set by some of his older brothers. Now, here he stood, a small, if he remembered correctly, North American killdeer bird that he had only seen pictures of when studying transfiguration history of other nations in Professor McGonagall's class. While the magnificence of the large Griffin and the intelligent looking tawny owl, surveyed him. He once again felt insignificant, but at least this time, his inept feelings were only out of concern for Harry.

"How am I going to be of any use at all like this?" he asked, clearly ashamed. "I can't do anything right! No wonder no one thinks I'd be a good auror." Ron felt more inadequate in front of Hermione, now that he could finally admit at least to himself, that he fancied her.

"Ron, it seems that from the beginning of our friendship, things have always happened for a reason." Hermione consoled him as they all stood in the breeze, feathers ruffling. "Honestly, don't you ever pay attention. Killdeers are a very brave species."

"Yes, Hermione, but the reason doesn't always have to be a good one, or a practical one," he said miserably. "One little breeze and I'm a goner. I can't help you like this, Harry," he said sadly.

"You can't if you don't try. I'm with Hermione on this one, Ron. I think we're all what we're supposed to be. You have to look at the qualities your adopted form has. Harry told him, ready to come clean about something else. "I know about the pledge, both of you. That's why this bothers you so much. I know you won't change your mind, whatever I want. I think I've always kind of known you were with me to whatever end. I wish you hadn't done it, but I'd be lying to you to tell you that I'm fine on my own. I don't want you to die, but Ron, do you even know what killdeers do to save their nests? They distract predators away from the nest, sometimes getting killed in the process. Do you think they think to themselves, 'right, that dirty great cat's twelve times bigger than me, I might as well just give up.' They just do whatever it takes." Harry sounded vaguely confident, some of the pride returning to his voice like it had when it had when he'd been teaching the DA. He felt uncomfortable rallying Ron to his side like this, probably to die alongside him, but he knew Ron had not entered into his oath lightly, and he knew that Ron needed Harry to have faith in him. Harry, like Ron had rarely paid anymore attention in class than Ron ever had, but when Professor McGonagall had explained the protective properties of the little bird species Ron seemed to have ended up with as his animagus form, Harry had felt a lump form in his throat, thinking of his parents sacrifice for him. Indeed humans were not the only species who loved their young enough to die for them.

Hermione and Ron had already risked their lives for him on more than one occasion, and he knew he could not turn them back. Ron seemed somewhat rallied by Harry's pep talk, and Hermione had needed no such thing. She was proud as she spread her wings just to look at them. With the build up of tension in the air, it was hard to stay on alert for what may come. They had no idea what to do, how to get back, or more pressing still, where were they?

"Alright, young ones, that will be all for tonight. You must close your eyes and concentrate very hard on coming down," came Dumbledore's voice from somewhere below.

"There is no down!" stated Ron apprehensively.

"You cannot see it, you must imagine it," came the voice from far away. Wanting and indeed needing to prove something, Ron was the first to figure out that you needed to picture yourself standing on a ledge and merely step off. It was like a game, on a magical scale. After seeing Ron do it, flapping his wings to stay up, Harry and Hermione stepped off, picturing the ledge. They flapped clumsily, while Ron flew easily with grace. They were half flying, half falling down, down more, until they felt the warm breeze become a chilly gust of wind, meant to whip the leaves from the trees. They could see Hogwarts from a view that Hermione, who hated to fly, had only seen a couple of times before. They cringed, not being able to stop themselves from crashing through the roof. They concentrated on 'down' like Dumbledore's voice had instructed and heaved sighs of relief as they went right through the roof, coming to a rest in their own respected beds and dorms.

Hermione came bursting into Ron and Harry's room, worried sick, but interested to see if they had all been a part of the same dream, or if she'd just been having an ordinary dream. They were both awake. She handed Harry his glasses. He sleepily put them on. "Well?" she demanded.

"Yeah," they both chorused. They did not have to wait for her to finish her question. Snape strode in, a very strange sight, in black cotton pyjamas that were every bit as stiff looking as his daywear. His dressing gown billowing around him, made him if possible, more menacing than usual. He was not pleased

We were unable to penetrate your dream, Potter. I assume by this improtu meeting that you were all involved?" He said 'involved' like they had committed a crime of some sort. "If you had studied your occlumency last year, like you were supposed to, we would be able to help you. As it stands now, I have been asked to begin occlumency training with the three of you. With the exception of my new pupil Mr Golden and Miss Granger here, I don't hold out much hope for a favourable level of mind contact with you. You," he looked at Hermione commandingly, "will report to this room directly after breakfast, ready for your first lesson. Is that clear?" His nasty tone, more than cancelled the compliment he had paid her, before casting his doubts on Ron and Harry. If Hermione had to miss regular classes, a lesson in occlumency, would more than make up for it. The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and indeed the shock of being animagi in the dream and seeing one another in their transformed shapes, had been enough.

Although still feeling the need for catch up sleep, they all, especially Harry, woke up with severe apprehension. Today would be the day when Dumbledore would reveal to the school, that Harry was alive. It had only been a week ago, when they had all gathered in this very hall to say their farewells to him. Would they be mad, relieved, or both? Would they blame him? Would they treat him like even more of a freak than they had before, when he'd been trying to convince everyone that Voldemort had returned? Now he had a better story, he thought ruefully, that he'd almost been killed again, or maybe not almost, he'd technically died on the operating table twice. He resigned himself to another year, worse than last, being called a nutter routinely, not just by students, but by the Ministry of Magic itself. He suddenly didn't feel hungry for breakfast anymore, even though, not being as reliant on the oxygen mask anymore, eating was so much easier. For the most part, the mask lay beside his face, gently blowing out air. He wore it only at night now, when the dampness of the old castle caused him to wheeze, or when he felt strained.

Ron especially felt that Hermione would be impossible to live with, missing out on lessons starting tomorrow, but she skipped in to eat with them. I can't wait for lessons. Occlumency lessons are very rare. I read in Hogwarts, a History, that there have only been a handful of teachers who could teach it, and that's going back a hundred years. The reason for the need for occlumency back then wasn't discussed. We sure know why now," she finished darkly. "I sure hope all my professors send me my lessons somehow." Harry and Ron were incredulous, but Hermione's hyper behaviour mercifully distracted Harry from his worrying about what would be said in the great hall during Dumbledore's school address. That was hours away. But he wished he could know how it would turn out.

Through the windows, even Harry if he propped himself up high enough, could see the carriages pulling up. The excited students did not have the usual exuberance and Harry could just barely make out, to his complete astonishment that some still wore black armbands. For a boy who had proven to be famous, famous but not popular, there appeared to be much grief still remaining for him.

They lost sight of the students once they entered the area outside the entrance. If Harry had felt nervous before, it was nothing to the anticipation of the speech, which was imminent, right after the start of school feast. Harry managed a smile at Tyler when a surprise from Dumbledore arrived. Ron and Hermione sat at a table with their parents, as well as Tyler, Stephanie and Madame Pomfrey. Tyler was positively beaming when the feast just magically appeared on the table before them. Hermione almost explained the house- elfs part in this, but Harry shot a look that clearly said " Let him have this wonderment for now." Harry knew all too well that his sense of wonder and innocence had been snatched from him at a terribly early age and he enjoyed seeing Tyler so thoroughly entertained by something that had become ordinary to them.

"Harry, eat something mate." Ron encouraged unsuccessfully.

Everything looked as wonderful as it had always done, but he looked at his bed tray and even the smell made him nauseous. Still pyjama clad, Ron got up from the table and sat on Harry's bed. They had no idea how difficult the wait was for him. They too had been apprehensive, but had dreaded that Professor Dumbledore would somehow not manage to successfully convince the school that Harry had nothing to do with the his own 'death.' His fear had an effect on his friends. They too had somewhat lost their appetites.

Mercifully, before dessert was completely ruined, Professor Dumbledore strode into the ward, his purple robes neatly arranged as always at the start of year.

Harry took a deep breath as though expecting some sort of physical pain. Dumbledore's square glasses slid slightly down his nose as he cleared his throat. His intensely blue eyes surveyed Harry, as a thousand different thoughts pummelled his brain.

"Harry , I know we have always expected more from you than anyone has the right to." Dumbledore began, getting right to the point. "We have always asked you to be brave and strong and you have always shown yourself to be. Now I must ask you to do something that I have come to know over the years is hard for you to doshow your vulnerability Harry."

Harry could not understand this at all, but if he thought he was confused now, what come next was absolutely unexpected. Professor Dumbledore rarely asked anyone if they wanted to do something. It was generally taken for granted that if the headmaster asked you to do something, you just did it without question.

Ron just turned to Hermione and cringed. Harry hadn't even shown his vulnerable side to them, his two best friends, even now after having almost died. He had after all, almost chewed their heads off for even acknowledging his weakness. Ron just knew whatever Dumbledore had in mind, would never with fly with his intensely private friend. When Harry asked, "what is it you want me to do?" calmly, his jaw dropped. Clearly, Harry wanted this whole death scenario over with more than anyone could ever have imagined.

"I need you to come to the great hall. I feel it would be best for you to face whatever reaction, good or bad, that your return to life brings, head on while you have the support of myself and of course your friends here. Hermione was ready to cover her ears, prepared for the angry tirade that she was sure would come from Harry. She too, now just stared at Harry, surprised, when all he had to say about it was, "well how am I supposed to get there?"

"Harry," Hermione protested, "I don't think you should ..."

"Professor Dumbledore's right, Hermione. You can't just blurt out, hey! Guess what! I lied. Harry potter didn't snuff it after all. Besides, there's a few people whom I'd love to see the reactions of when I come in. Harry had not only accepted this, he seemed to be looking forward to it now. A wicked grin had crossed Harry's face. Ron and Hermione, to their great amusement and joy, were reminded of some of the happier times they had shared, and now that they thought about it, it would be worth seeing Malfoy's face when he saw Harry enter the great hall, back from the dead!


	19. The Boy Who LIVED!

Apparently, Dumbledore had already spoken to the school about the greater good, in an effort to soften the blow of shock that would be felt by students when they would be told that Harry Potter, was still indeed, the boy who lived. He had also told the student body that sometimes, in order to secure something important, all means must be taken, even if it meant that a certain amount of deceit had to come into play. The students were left puzzled at best, but than Professor Dumbledore had been considered a little bit genius and little bit off his rocker for years, so no one knew what to expect when he left th feast before his usual generous serving of desserts.

In answer to Harry's question regarding how he would travel to the great hall on his broken legs, Dumbledore conjured an ancient looking wheelchair. It was high backed wicker with curvy armrests. There was supports for outstretched legs, but Harry was reminded strongly of Mrs Figg's furniture. 'All I need is a shawl and I'll look just like her,' he thought. He made no protest outwardly however though. For a young man who'd fought anything from dragons to Voldemort himself, pride was almost harder to fight.

"A moment please, Professor Dumbledore," cautioned Madame Pomfrey. Harry felt bandages wind around his legs. When he protested , she assured him that they would be removed upon his return to bed. "We cannot have your legs being further damaged." clearly, she did not agree that Harry should leave the hospital wing. Harry was levitated into the chair. He was shocked when it acted much like a broom. He needed only to lean and will it to go wherever he wanted. Suddenly, he didn't care at all what it looked like. This was his first taste of freedom in a month and it felt wonderful. Madame Pomfrey had placed an incubator charm around the chair, assuring Harry a supported level of oxygen should he need it.

Ron was shocked by Harry's willingness to venture out into public, and forgot to change into clothing. He didn't actually care either. If Harry could face this, he could suffer a little teasing about his attire. Although it suddenly occurred to Ron, that, as Harry's best friends, and having been in on the deception from the start, he and Hermione would surely share in some of the ridicule that was bound to come their way. Now Harry was anxious to face the music and Ron just wanted to hide in bed. Hermione, as usual, resolved to do whatever the powers that be instructed. Having sworn to die for Harry if necessary, Ron knew that it was ridiculous that he was dreading the wrath of whatever sentiment his peers would have in store for he and his friends. 'Come on Weasley, you don't care what they think,' he tried to convince himself, bucking up to support Harry, who would surely be the main target of any anger from the students.

"What are you going to tell them sir?" Hermione asked, as she prepared to leave the ward with Harry. For Harry, the anticipation had been much worse than actually setting off to come clean. For some reason, he now felt like he just didn't care. It wasn't as if anything he had ever done, had made even the slightest difference to the fickle students at Hogwarts. He no longer cared about winning them back if they felt betrayed by the lie that had become his life. It never seemed to matter what he did, he decided. Harry had adopted Hagrid's opinion that whatever would come, would come, and they would just have to face it when it did.

Harry didn't feel so non concerned when Dumbledore's reply came to Hermione. "I do not know what to say yet to the students. Perhaps we will wait until they see you and say just what comes naturally once you have been seen. Tyler, I believe it would be prudent to have you and your mother accompany Harry to his reunion with his fellow students if you would be so kind."

"Of course, replied Stephanie, although somewhat reserved. Harry was surrounded as he manouvered his wheelchair masterfully down the corridors of Hogwarts toward the great hall. Many times, he felt like turning around and calling the whole thing off. So what if everyone thought he was dead, maybe it was best to just let them think it, besides he was a marked man. He could be dead, killed by Voldemort at any time. If anyone really cared about him, he'd just be putting them through this twice.

Just before turning a corner, they distinctly heard mournful sobbing. Moaning Myrtle was the last thing they needed to run into now, but when Luna Lovegood collided right into Harry's wheelchair and fell to the floor from the unexpected impact, they all froze except Professor Dumbledore and Stephanie, who stooped to help her up. Luna Lovegood had never been seen to care about any situation enough to even pay attention to it, let alone cry about it. She now dabbed her eyes on a embroidered handkerchief that Professor Dumbledore had given to her. "Oh, Hello Harry, sorry about that," she sniffled in apology, to the amazement of everyone assembled. It didn't phase her one bit to see Harry alive. She had already indicated to Ron and Hermione that Harry hadn't really died, but they had shrugged it off as one of her many peculiarities. "How are you?" she asked Harry selflessly, though she herself sported a rapidly bruising knee from the collision with the chair's leg rests.

"Fine...fine...I"m fine." Harry was so shocked, he could only utter, 'fine,' about five times. When Hermione had mastered herself, she asked, "are you alright Luna?'"

"Yes, I will be," she answered, decided, composing herself once more. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now, wouldn't you?" she asked, beginning to cry softly again.

"Used to what?" Ron asked in a tone that showed he was completely out of touch.

"People taking my things," she replied exasperatedly, but resigned to believe that this was normal behaviour, at least for her. She had explained to Harry, that her belongings, which were stolen on a regular basis, were usually returned at year's end. Harry had felt sorry for Luna for the first time, when she had told him this. Sure, Luna was odd, really out there, but she'd never done anything to anyone to deserve such shoddy treatment. Harry was almost glad to have something to focus on, besides the reception which would greet him in the great hall.

"What did they take this time, Luna?" Harry asked sympathetically. Ron and Hermione had no idea what he was talking about. "Oh...nothing," Luna hesitated. Luna may have been a lot of things, but a good liar, she was not. She looked so nervous trying to look Harry in those deep green eyes of his. He knew she was hiding something, but when she stared into his eyes, she mumbled, "my diary," and ran, tearfully for the Ravenclaw dormitories. Harry, who was not easily moved to pity for what he would call silly girl stuff, felt even sorrier for her. He made a mental note to ask Hermione to try to help Luna make some friends and fit in, that is if he was ever accepted back into the fold himself. Professor Dumbledore magically paged Madame Pomfrey to the Ravenclaw dorms to see about Luna's knee. Harry felt strangely relieved that someone was going to offer her some comfort.

Professor Dumbledore opened the doors to the great hall, entering alone. There was immediate silence. Everyone knew this must be very important. Dumbledore had never left the feast without sampling all of the sumptuous desserts. This must be big.

"Hogwarts staff and students," Dumbledore began formally. "You have been deceived." these words began a loudt muttering around the great hall. "You have read in the Daily Prophet that Harry Potter is dead, the victim of a tornado. I cleared that up for you at his funeral, informing you that the tornadoes were in fact the work of Voldemort." It was amazing to still see people clapping their hands over their ears as the dark lord's name rang out in the great hall. "However it much it pained me to inform you that you had been deceived by the newspaper, it pains me more to inform you, that you have been deceived by myself as well." Now everyone was clearly confused. "In order to save his life, we had no choice but to hide him death. Harry Potter is not dead." Dumbledore raised his hands, ordering silence, which was given only because everyone wanted to know more.

Mr Potter was near death, when found by members of our staff. Dumbledore could not of course, mention who, because of the death eater's children who attended Hogwarts. Snape's cover would have been blown, had it been revealed that he'd tried to save Harry's life. Harry was treated in muggle fashion for his grievous injuries." Echos of 'gross!' and 'no!' were heard in the hall, along with gasps of horror and revulsion. "He has suffered cruelly at the hands of Voldemort, and remains in the hospital with extensive injuries. Harry was not, and I will stress this, an instrument in faking his death. This was a decision made by myself and some of our staff, after the Daily Prophet ran a story about the demise of our Harry Potter, which of course was not true. We sought to take advantage of their license, by ensuring safe passage back to the school for our seriously wounded student.

At the mention that Harry was at Hogwarts, students automatically began to scan the Griffindor table, even though Dumbledore had told them that Harry was still hospitalized. Fred and Ginny stared intimidatingly back at them, as if daring anyone to make a fuss. George had been ordered to stay in the hospital wing, and he had fussed so much at not being able to be there to support Harry, that Madame Pomfrey had slipped him a sleeping potion. Professor Dumbledore summoned them into the great hall. I will make one point very clear once again," he stated, staring out at the pupils impressively, "Miss Granger and Mr Weasley here, had no part whatsoever in the activities to deceive you. I expect there are mixed feeling among you, including anger, but anger will be misplaced on these students. If there is to be trouble or accusations, let you speak now, while the one responsible for the deceit is here to answer it...me." Dumbledore sounded like a preacher at a wedding asking anyone if they had any just cause why a couple should not be married.

Malfoy seemed about to say something, but one look from the Griffindor Quidditch Team, seemed to change his mind. Harry had no idea what had transpired on the day of his funeral, when Malfoy had finally gone too far, and had gotten what had been coming to him, and it must have been worse than two previous retaliations made on Harry's behalf in past years, because he shut up instantly.

For one fearful minute, Harry thought Dumbledore might make him address the school. His mouth went very dry and his pulse quickened, but mercifully, Dumbledore had other plans. "No doubt you all have questions for Mr. Potter, but he is not, I repeat, not responsible for any of this. He is here to get well and carry on his education. Only Professor Dumbledore could have kept order in the hall at a time like this. It was more silent than Harry had imagined, as once again, all eyes were on him. It didn't seem to matter to anyone, that Ron was there in the Great Hall, in his pyjams. also sporting visible injuries. It didn't seem to matter that they were standing next to people no one in Hogwarts had ever met before. Harry looked down at his feet, intensely aggravated. Everyone was staring at him like they'd seen a ghost, and to most it felt like it.

Dumbledore allowed the students to murmur themselves into relative calm. Harry had felt he could handle this, but he now felt all the eyes in the great hall boring into him.

"Harry mate, are you okay?" Ron asked cautiously.

'Yeah," but Harry's ragged breathing would indicate otherwise. He was hyperventilating, and his heart was beating so hard it hurt his chest. The room seemed to spin with a sea of faces, and he knew now, he wasn't ready for this.

Ginny, becoming alarmed, sprang up to Harry to find out what was wrong. "We have to take him back to the hospital wing," she whispered, trying to keep some of Harry's dignity intact. He would not want Malfoy or anyone else, seeing him like this, and she knew it.

"Wait, Ginny, I'll be fine," Harry lied, trying to master himself. Ginny knelt down in front of him, and seeing that the incubator charm that Madam Pomfrey had placed on the chair wasn't enough, gently put his oxygen mask back on him. If Ron, Hermione or Dumbledore himself had done this, Harry would have been mortified, but for some reason, just the tough of Ginny's hand took him away from all the pointing and whispering and he could feel his heart stop pounding so painfully in his ribs.

"Okay, Harry, nice deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Try to slow down, relax. Her hand on his back was the best distraction from this trauma, and Ron and Hermione marvelled at Ginny's composure. Ron nodded at Ginny in approval. No one had ever broken through Harry's pride or panic like that before, and they were grateful. Ginny, who was now hunched down, stayed protectively beside Harry should he decide he needed to bolt out of there right away.

Was it Hermione's imagination, or did Cho glance at Malfoy, before springing up and practically knocking Ginny over as she ran up to hug Harry? "Oh Harry!" she exclaimed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Ron thought he'd imagined the exchange between Malfoy and Cho as well. Harry now felt, with a sinking dread, that Cho would ask if Cedric's death had all been a ploy as well, but thankfully, she didn't. He didn't know what to say. They hadn't parted in good graces, and now she was all over him. Ginny held Harry's hand and placed her body on an awkward angle, so that Cho couldn't get a good hug in. Partly because of jealousy, but mostly because she had felt Harry's shoulders tighten into a knot at the approach of Cho.

"Miss Chang, please return to your seat, Harry will receive visitors on Madame Pomfrey's permission," Dumbledore ordered the bold Ravenclaw. Harry was relieved when Cho let go and went back to her table. After all the dread and gut wrenching fear, Harry thought people had taken the news of his life well, and Professor Dumbledore did not stop a few students from sending their owls out with word in what they stupidly thought was a secret sendoff. The great hall echoed with disappointment when everyone learned that Harry would not be able to talk to them about what happened this evening. Harry was really surprised to find that the real reason he had been brought to the great hall was for the sorting which had been delayed just for him. Harry shot Ginny an appreciative little smile as she squeezed his hand in support. The sorting did little to distract the pupils from their stares of anything from incredulity to relief, to disbelief continued to come his way as the sorting began. Harry himself had been wide eyed back at them all, until Ginny had squeezed his hand firmly, and somehow, he felt compelled to look at her, really look at her. When had her eyes become so blue? When had her hair become so shiny?" Ginny smiled back at him, figuring his shell shocked look was from all of the trauma of reintroduction to the school.

"Oh poor things," said Hermione sympathetically indicating the first years table to the side. They haven't even touched their food or juice they're so nervous. They should have been sorted before the feast as usual, I know I couldn't have eaten before the sorting— too nervous— Remember?" Hermione was talking so fast, Ron and Harry could've sworn she'd drank too much coffee, but they would think a sorting would be significant enough to Harry that Dumbledore would hold it off until he could be there. The sorting hat sat upon the stool and began his usual song, singing regarding the four houses and their magical and practical qualities, but then a new verse began.

RAVENCLAW, HUFFLEPUFF, GRIFFINDOR AND SLYTHERYN

WHAT HOUSE DO I PUT YOU IN?

FOR IN THE PAST I'VE ADMONISHED YOU

STICK TOGETHER OF YOU WILL BE TOO FEW.

FOR MY JOB IS TO SEPARATE

SOMETHING THAT I'VE COME TO HATE

EXTEND THE BRANCH OF FRIENDSHIP

TO THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR

FOR ALL YOU KNOW

OH YOU DON'T KNOW

THERE MAY BE ONE MORE

OF THIS ONE HOUSE I WILL NOT SPEAK

BUT AMONG YOU NOW I BEGAN TO SEEK

FOR SEE YOU FOUR I CAN SENSE

A HOUSE NOT STRONG, BUT MADE LIKE TENTS

IN THIS HOUSE THERE STANDS ONE TRUE

TO HELP THE MARKED

THE PROPHECY TO DO

TO WHATEVER END IT MUST BE DONE

BUT ONLY BY THE CHOSEN ONE

The sorting hat had always spoken in riddles, but Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Dumbledore seemed to have expected the cryptic message from the sorting hat. They would have to sort out the message later, now the sorting hat began. Harry suspected that Dumbledore had held off the sorting to give students something else to focus on as a group after all the revelations they had received.

After making such an unusual speech and being more of a spectacle than usual, the sorting hat at first appeared to be just merely rhyming off the usual house names. Anticipation and interest in the sorting was at an unprecedented high as the sorting hat had alluded to a fifth house. For the first time all eyes had left Harry and now were watching the sorting as intently as any Quidditch match.

Harry was completely surprised when Professor McGonagall called Golden, Tyler to the stool to be sorted. Tyler although he looked like he'd expected this, walked slowly up to the stool, not looking around at the students, but starring interested at the old hat as if it may swallow his head up. After all, he was a muggle and hadn't Harry Potter himself been nervous about his sorting?

"Are you ready Mr. Golden?" Professor McGonagall asked gently.

"Y– Yes" Tyler stammered, Stephanie looked apprehensive as well.

It was the longest single sorting ever and the answer was disappointing at best. For it was not a house name that the sorting hat burst forth as usual, but another poem.

THE FOUR HOUSE PROPERTIES YOU ALREADY KNOW

BUT WINDS OF CHANGE ARE ABOUT TO BLOW

BEFORE YOU REMIND ME HUFFLEPUFF WILL TEACH THE REST

OH NO, NOT THESE, THEY KNOW THEIR QUEST.

"CLOVER HOUSE!" The hat shouted finally, leaving everyone confused and stunned into silence. Professor Dumbledore clapped as usual as if this was a perfectly normal and expected occurance. Dumbledore had instucted Tyler to choose a table to sit at.

Professor Dumbledore continued to clap as he always did as each student was sorted. The rest of the staff still clapped only when he gave them an encouraging look. The students slowly followed suit, but Tyler who had been told to go to his chosen table, looked bewildered.

"It's alright Tyler," Hermione went up to him, feeling sorry for him and glancing back at Ron and Harry as if to say "What the —?" "Come stand over here with us until the sorting's over" Naturally everyone was shocked when four more students were chosen for Clover House. One girl, Nichol Malecki had been brought up muggle and didn't seem to mind, but one boy Blake Jamber, looked like he'd be more comfortable in Slytherin, and two more girls Katie Cameron and Aaron McDonald stood by Professor McGonagall looking politely confused.

The sorting hat fell silent for another year and Professor Dumbledore spoke quietly to Professor McGonagall about the newly formed or reformed (so the sorting hat alluded) Clover house.

"Well , you heard the sorting hat", Professor McGonagall told the only first years who had nowhere to sit, "Choose a table to join with for now until we can decide where to place you!" She looked at Professor Dumbledore as if she had not expected this.

Nichol Malecki slowly made her way to the Hufflepuff table where she was met with polite, albeit subdued applause. Arron McDonald decided Ravenclaw would suit her personality best, so she approached their table and was accepted half heartedly when they applauded quietly as if expected to do so. Blake Jamber sat defiantly with the Slytherins, clearly believing he belonged there in the first place and had been cheated out of his rightful place. Slytherins, who were not characteristically welcoming, seemed almost relieved someone chose them. It would have been an embarrassment to be left out of a free choice picking. Katie Cameron seemed on the verge of tears when one of the first years she had met on the Hogwarts express who had been placed in Griffindor, called out to her. "Over Here!" Kyle Richards called softly. She quickly seized this opportunity of not having to choose a house table for herself and joined the Griffindors, who good naturedly applauded while a great many of them wondered if Katie hadn't been called by Kyle where she would have sat. It wasn't a good loyalty gauge, after all, she would know their password and house secrets. Finally all eyes were on Tyler as he stood beside Ron, Hermione and Harry. Snape looked hopeful, but his hopes were dashed quickly when he too joined Griffindor.

Professor Dumbledore announced the beginning of desserts and everyone who had been too nervous to eat during the feast now filled up on cookies, cakes, pies and puddings. Harry was extremely relieved when he was dismissed to return to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had been clucking in disapproval of his removal from the hospital wing in the first place. She fussed over him mercilessly as he was tucked back int bed exhausted from his first try out of bed, let alone hospital. Although relieved to no longer shoulder the burden fo his secret, Harry had tired easily. He was very pale and weak. He hadn't realized just how far he had left to go before he felt himself again. He was disappointed. Looking over at Ron, he caught him looking back, with concern.

"You alright Harry?" Ron asked, looking tired himself. After all Harry reasoned to himself, It is late, I'd be tired anyway, Ron's tired too.

"Yeah, just tired." Harry only half told the truth. He was now worried that he'd been responsible for bringing Tyler into his complicated dangerous world. All he had wanted at the beginning, was a friend, someone to talk to during the long lonely summers with the Dursleys. Now he had brought an innocent boy into the tangled web that was his life. A whole new sense of guilt came to him.

Ron could tell automatically what Harry was thinking. "Harry, Tyler was invited here. He chose to come. He told us himself he'd always been different and didn't know why. He was glad to come to a place where he didn't feel so different, where maybe he could learn more about animals and become a full healer. He told us everyone but his parents had always treated him like a bit of a nutter. He's got a kind heart and he got beat up for it out there. He picked up an earthworm from the pavement after it was starting to dry in the sun when the rain stopped and put it in a garden and some bigger kids beat him for it. He already had it rough at his old school, Harry, so if it's tough here, he's used to it.

"Yeah, Ron, but at his last school, he wasn't connected to someone who's a walking target."

"Harry, mate, for some reason, that boy knows the risks perhaps better than Hermione and I do. We've never even seen Voldemort before. He has. His decision to come here, was an informed one. You've got to face it, for good or bad, he belongs here with us."

"He's right, Harry," Tyler told him, carrying a tray of the desserts they had missed into the room. He was followed by Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Fred, who held the door open in mock sympathy for George, whom Madame Pomfrey had finally let out of bed. He had a small taste of what Harry was going through. For Fred or George, confinement was about the worst thing in the world. Somehow, the company made Harry's total exhaustion turn to mild tiredness, as for just a little while, they enjoyed the fabulous desserts and just enjoyed talking for awhile. The adults sat in the outer room, with their coffee, discussing the year ahead in hushed tones.

Some of the pressure seemed to have been lifted from Ginny. Harry hadn't realized how scared she had been for him, having to face the school. She had been prepared to defend him from any cruelty that might have come his way this evening. After Hermione had kissed Ron and Harry on the cheek, Ginny followed suit, blushing profusely. This caught Harry completely off guard and he could have kicked himself when he had involuntarily muttered, "thanks," a little too enthusiastically. Fred and George, as usual had to make things worse. "Oh come Harry, give us little kiss, than!' they than pranced around giving everyone little pecks on the cheek, before preparing to leave. Ron, insecure in these matters as always, wondered if he should have thanked Hermione for her kiss like Harry had done with Ginny.

As everyone had left the room and Ron and Harry settled themselves in, Hagrid came in to check on them.

"Hagrid," said Harry gladly. He was relieved to know that Hagrid had remembered how scared he was without making him ask for help again. Seeing Harry back in the Hogwarts setting, sent Hagrid's memories of the end of last year, flooding back to him. Harry had known that Hagrid was only trying to comfort him over the loss of his Godfather in his own simple way, but he hadn't taken kindly to the words Hagrid had chosen. Hagrid remembered that Harry had been angered when he had mistakenly referred to Sirius as reckless. Hagrid had only meant that Sirius was not the type to stay cooped up for long. Hagrid hadn't carried a grudge over Harry's cool treatment of him at the end of last year, but he felt that maybe it was time he clarified how he had really meant to talk to Harry last year. Harry had been thinking the same thing, so he asked, "Hagrid, were you mad at me last year? I mean, I wasn't the greatest to be around, for anyone..."

"I could never be angry with yeh, Harry." Hagrid, for a giant, could be gentle in speech. "You were jus' hurtin.' Anyone could see that." Harry was relieved. On this side of the summer, he needed Hagrid now more than ever.

"Yeh look tired. I won' stay long." Hagrid looked awkward. So much had happened since last year. Hagrid had received official word that he had passed his teaching standards test and had the full use of his wand left with no restrictions. "You know them tests come with Hogwarts equivalency," he said proudly. "Dumbledore says I have me seventh year N.E.W.T.S., but you know, I always felt righ' bad about not graduating. Me dad always had high hopes for me and I feel like I let 'im down a bit still. Oh well, I'm there now, only it don't feel quite right, you know?"

"Well, you could study this year as an adult and sit the N.E.W.T.S., Hagrid. Muggles do it all the time if they don't graduate and choose to do it later on in life. They go back to school, or take correspondence courses or night school," explained Hermione, striding back into the room as if she had been a part of the conversation from the beginning. "Oh yes, Harry, You do look dreadfully tired." The way she added this, Harry felt as insulted as if she had stopped at dreadful, though he took it good naturedly.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"How about me? Handsomely refreshed as usual?" Ron called to her.

"But of course," Hermione returned complimentary.

"You know, that's not a bad idea, that adult learning thing," Harry said, glad to leave the Harry-looks-tired commentary behind.

'You really think so, Harry?" Hagrid asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, Hagrid," Harry answered encouragingly. If you feel the need for a diploma, even though you've proven yourself," Harry assured him. You should ask Professor Dumbledore if you could take up part time studies."

"Oh, I'd love to help!" Hermione beamed.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had all been so positive, that Hagrid made up his mind to inquire about a formal education for himself, than he said, "I want yeh ter be proud to know me, not embarrassed like yeh sometimes have to be in me classes. Oh, it's alright, I don' blame yeh," he admitted. Sometimes the lessons aren't up to scratch. With a bit o' brushin' up, I can make you proud."

"Hagrid," Hermione said, having always loved anything to do with someone on a quest for knowledge, "your lessons have always proved useful.' Ron and Harry exchanged glances. Hermione had never really much cared for Hagrid's classes in reality, but she had always stuck by him as a good teacher, good, but not great, and if anyone could make the lessons great, it would be Hermione. "I'll help you study, or take notes, or whatever you want."

"I'm going to need all the help I can get," Hagrid sighed. "School's a long way back in my past. I'm afraid I've lost most of it."

"Well, for muggles anyway, life skills count toward your grades. In other words, practical skills, and you've go loads of them. I bet it would take you a year or less to get your N.E.W.T.S, go through O.W.L.S and N.E.W.T.S. in just one year. Accelerated learning." Hermione was so ecstatic, she set off for bed with a quick goodnight, promising to look up some lessons for Hagrid to study, now that it was common knowledge that Hagrid had been wrongfully expelled from Hogwarts in his third year.

It now dawned on Harry, that Hagrid must have been a powerful wizard in his own right, for he was a member of the Order Of The Phoenix with long standing, nearly fifteen years. Hagrid had lost a great deal to Voldemort as well, and Harry had never considered this before. He wondered what Hagrid would have become, had he been allowed to continue his education. Hagrid had been framed by Tom Riddle, who became Voldemort, for setting a monster lose on the school, causing a death. This was before Harry's parent's time. Harry realized for the first time, that Hagrid himself would have his own reasons wanting Voldemort stopped.

Hagrid, although not as proud of his equivalence as he would have been had he sat the exams himself, somehow still seemed to walk taller, if that were possible. There was a more confident air about him. Hagrid had appointed himself unofficial guardian of Harry. He even appeared to dress neater and was better groomed. Harry felt compelled to make Hagrid know that he'd always appreciated him.

"Imagine you, graduating with Fred and George. What a party that'll be!" Ron said.

"Yeah," Hagrid laughed, as though imagining it. "Well now, Harry, I reckon it's time for yeh to get some rest. I'm off me feet, too. If yeh need anything, just send for me. I'll check in on yeh tomorrow."

"Night, Hagrid...and thanks," Harry called after the giant, who was making his way to the dorms so he could be near to Harry.

Professor Dumbledore came to talk to them before lights out, just after Madame Pomfrey had given Harry his medicines. They were anxious to discuss the Clover House addition, but Professor Dumbledore promised to tell them about it the next day, saying to Harry, "you have been too taxed this day already, and though you do not mention it, I know you are in considerable pain. You need rest and healing. You all must master these telephotus dreams, and you will be unable if you over exert yourself when you should rest. As you know, your friend Tyler was placed in Clover House, but for now, although having chosen Griffindor, he will remain in this wing in his mother's care, with one small change. The magical seal, which surrounds your dorm form telephotus influence, has now been extended to Tyler's room also, allowing him to enter your dreams if he is able."

"But, Professor, really, you must not allow this. Tyler could be hurt or even killed, all because he met me." Harry began a frantic plea for Dumbledore to stop this new plan.

"Harry," Dumbledore said calmly, "Tyler has natural occlumency. "He feels he can teach you with Professor Snape's help. He wants to help of his own free will, Harry. He knows the risks. While proficient in occlumency and legilemency, Professor Snape was unable to enter your dreams last night. Tyler believes he could act as a conduit between you and help you master these unbidden dreams. You must all learn to master these dreams, because in theory, we could place a thousand guards around you, and Voldemort could summon and kill you before any of them knew what had even happened.

"But Professor Dumbledore, I haven't even mastered occlumency during waking times,"

"Harry, you can, and you must do this, for your sake as well as theirs," Dumbledore ordered, meaning Ron and Hermione. "Unfortunately, this is not up to you. Voldemort will continue this onslaught of dream attacks until you..." Dumbledore had begun sternly, but could not finish his sentence. Harry had been mad, even though he knew the headmaster was right.

"Until I die," Harry finished for him.

"Yes, Harry, unless you can learn to block it out. This barrier of protection will last only for so long. Voldemort will find a way through it, and when he does, you need to be ready and strong, as do those who are compelled to come to your aid.

Accepting help from Snape, even through Tyler, was hard for Harry to do. For one thing, there was the intense hatred between them, and there was also still the fear in the back of his mind, that Snape was merely setting him up to fail.

"Promise me Harry," Dumbledore looked worried. Dumbledore's insistent imploring for Harry to try harder, made him know that Voldemort had been very real in his dreams, though he had tried to convince himself otherwise until now.

"I promise, but what if I can't do it?"

"You can do anything you put your mind to," Dumbledore encouraged. "You haven't failed yet." Harry had never had parental encouragement before. This was as close to it as it came, but it also filled him with a sense of nervousness, which expanded beyond the fact that if he failed, he would die. If he didn't learn to block these dreams, he would be letting Dumbledore down.

"I know you have had a hard day, but I think we should begin trying to let Tyler help you tonight.

"Alright," sighed Harry, trying to sound game. It seemed bizarre, that in order to train, he first had to fall asleep. His body was aching and he was exhausted, but Dumbledore could see that his mind wasn't ready for sleep.

"We have in the past, as you know, given you potion for a dreamless sleep, but we now have it on good authority that we must step up your training, so we are going to do just the opposite, in fact, Ron and Hermione have already agreed to our plan. We are going to train three times a day, using sleep inducers. Eight hours in the night, two in the morning and two in the afternoon. Harry thought if he could practice Quidditch three times a day, he'd be the greatest player ever. He felt Hermione must be really serious about this, for she had never mentioned once, how much she would miss regular classes.


	20. The Greatest Gift of All

Harry was at least pleased, when informed that the Occlumency lessons with Snape, would count toward the completion of their sixth year. 'Oh great,' he thought, 'Hermione will be on us more for good grades than for our very lives.' He and Ron had recalled Hermione being more worried about expulsion than death in their first year before they had become fast friends, after having broken a school rule by entering the forbidden third floor corridor.

"She'll be insufferable," Ron piped in, reminding Harry that he had been a silent partner to their conversation. "But I really wish she didn't have to do this with us," he ended, sounding more protective than dread filled.

"Mr. Weasley, you are thinking in a most chivalrous manner, and while that is an admirable sentiment, Miss Granger, as you know is not a part of the past, where women were considered the weaker vessels. Even we wizards were guilty of labelling our fine witches inferior in physical strength. We were just lucky when they rose up to obtain the right to vote in seventeen thirty two, that they stopped short of disbanding us altogether. You know, Ron, as Professor Binns has no doubt taught you in history," Dumbledore remarked, going completely off topic, "that at one time, a witch called Pentalisa Pinafore, in mimic of an ancient tribe of muggle women, set out to segregate males from females, saying, and perhaps rightly so at the time, that wizards would never acknowledge equality. Fortunately, my own grandfather, convinced that he would miss my grandmother's famous baking, should she join the separation, called for new government, and although there was much resistance, the wizard witch equality laws were drafted and passed." Dumbledore had rarely ever spoken of his family, but when he did, it was sure to be fascinating fare. Ron and Harry felt like they'd been told a bedtime story. They were also left with something new to ponder. It seemed with each passing year, Ron and Harry had become more protective of Hermione, but than she too, had become more protective of them, even bending her own rules to help them with their homework. Somehow still, even with this new point of view, they had to admit that it would, no matter what, be easier for them to get battered around, than to see Hermione get hurt. Harry had to admit, that it had been more excruciating to watch Ginny suffer in the chamber of secrets, than to endure the poisonous venom chorusing through his own flesh. He shuddered just thinking about it, hoping he would never have to see her suffer again.

"Well, bottom's up, mate," Ron cheered his glass in the air at Harry and drank the sleeping potion.

"I would say sleep well, Harry, but under the circumstances..." Dumbledore said gravely. Harry drank the potion and fell instantly to sleep. It was like hitting a brick wall when he and Ron both ended up standing in front of Snape and Tyler, not as animagi, but as themselves. Hermione followed a minute later, sporting a night dress and dressing gown, which she quickly pulled tighter together. She must have fallen asleep, really thinking of sleeping.

Harry appeared bodily sound, not having any of his injuries. For a moment, Ron and Hermione were filled with false hope, that when the dream would end, Harry would be well again. He was wearing muggle clothing. Jeans and the jumper Mrs Weasley had knit for him recently. Ron and Tyler were similarly clad in pyjamas, and Professor Snape, to everyone's complete surprise wore a black long sleeved turtle neck and black pants with black shoes. Everyone felt he'd forgone the cloak since he wasn't teaching a formal class.

"Miss Granger, next time I would advise more suitable clothing." Snape's immediate cheap shot at Hermione, told them that he was taking this deadly serious, and indeed, they were to begin immediately. Harry couldn't help but run a hand over his chest, to find there were no scars. His lungs felt strong and he felt whole. Returning to reality would be harder this time.

"Your goal in these exercises will be to not end up here with us," Snape advised them, indicating himself and Tyler. "You will be put to sleep three times a day, you will be summoned, compelled to answer my call, similarly to answer the Dark Lord's summons. You will fight the desire to appear before me. I will use negative reinforcement every time my summons to you is answered by your appearance before me. The Dark Lord is more powerful than I, so while I can teach you not to answer my summons, I may not be able to train you not to answer his call. I can however," he paused to give them all his infamous beady eyed stare, "Teach you to at least hide before him until you can wake up and escape."

"After consulting with Professor Lupin, I somewhat convinced that escaping from a Telephotus dream is similar to escaping Dementors, but you patronus will not help you here Mr. Potter," Snape stated to Harry who quickly deflated.

"Professor Snape, Sir" Hermione asked in a small timid voice. Why are we hear in our own form, not our anigmus forms?" Hating to admit that he didn't have the answer, Snape informed her curtly that he would consult with Professor Dumbledore about that.

"Maybe it's because you're not sensing danger right now, and you're not scared. When you were really hurt and scared in the woods, that's when I could sense your animagus form, Harry," Tyler revealed. Harry didn't want Tyler informing everyone how scared he'd been that night, but he knew they'd have some idea without being told anyhow. "Maybe," he finished humbly.

"And Harry's fear is what triggers our animagus response!" Hermione certainly made sense.

"A valid hypothesis, Mr. Golden," Snape complemented, leaving Hermione's contribution to the solution unanswered. Although Snape had clearly been disappointed when Tyler had not chosen Slytherin as his temporary house, he did not seem to hold it against him. Snape was almost nice to Tyler, nicer in fact that he'd ever been to anyone in his own house including his star pupil, Draco Malfoy.

"Yeah, but the second time we hade telephotus dreams, Harry wasn't scared." Ron disagreed. Now this was just plain humiliating.

"Yeah I was. I wasn't sure the shield charm against Voldemort would work," Harry admitted.

"Oh well, that's why we must've changed then," Ron stated.

"This really isn't getting us anywhere," Harry said, desperate to change the subject.

"In order to test this theory, we should stop the deliberate summons to see if we have more telephotus dreams naturally," Hermione asserted.

"Professor Dumbledore was quite clear when he told us that Harry does not have much time to learn to block out these dreams. If your theory proves correct, Mr. Golden, the Dark Lord has been summoning only Mr. Potter. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley are being involuntarily summoned by Mr. Potter for assistance," Snape theorized making Harry feel more guilty than ever. He had to master these dreams or he himself would be responsible for putting Ron and Hermione in danger. "One advantage you have," Snape informed them "Is that it is clear that the Dark Lord has not figured out how to bring allies with him into the dream. It is not clear how you summon your friends, just why they are summoned. We must be sure not to let this information get into the wrong hands. Although even three to one against the Dark Lord are still not good odds, it is preferable to facing him alone. How Mr Potter has escaped death this far is a riddle none may ever comprehend." At this, Snape seemed to daydream for a minute, snapping out of it in a worse mood than minutes ago.

"Keeping in mind that the Dark Lord would prefer to kill you in person rather than leave you cold in your bed for someone to find dead in the morning, he will try to first subdue you, then transport you away to finish you off in front of his followers, proving himself triumphant according to the prophecy." For something that had been kept secret for most of Harry's life, an awful lot of people knew about Harry's destiny to kill or be killed. "We have wasted enough time," Snape grumbled. "Now you must try to transform into you animagus forms, since that is clearly what you turn into when summoned by the Dark Lord. There is no sense in practising in your real form. Concentrate hard on your animagus. Try to become your animagus." After a half hour of heavy concentration hadn't produced a single feather on any of them, Hermione became frustrated. Even transfiguration had come easily to her. She just couldn't seem to accept that she didn't pick up on something new right away. They tried for hours until Snape informed them that lessons were over. One by one they fell from their dreams back into their rooms where a dull grey had crept across the inky black sky outside their windows. They all felt they'd let each other down, especially Harry who now had the added responsibility of being the one who was involuntarily drawing his friends into harm's way. Before anyone awoke, Harry made up his mind to do something drastic. When Madame Pomfrey made her early morning rounds, Harry requested that she bring the Headmaster to him before anyone else awoke.

"What is it Mr Potter?" She was alarmed, seeing how desperate Harry was. "If you are in more pain or more ill, you can tell me. I can Help," she said kindly, easing him back onto his pillows.

"No, please, its nothing like that at all. Please, I just need to see Professor Dumbledore." More to calm Harry than anything else, Madame Pomfrey went to summon the headmaster.

"What is it Harry?" Professor Dumbledore put a silencing screen between his and Ron's bed.

" I want to leave the Hospital Wing. Leave Ron and Hermione here in the protected area, that way they won't hear me when I wimp out and call for help," Harry pleaded frantically. "Don't tell anyone where I am when you move me!" Harry was losing his breath.

"Calm yourself my dear boy, and try to tell me what you are talking about," Dumbledore said in a soothing voice that irritated Harry even further. Clearly Snape hadn't had time to inform Dumbledore as to the reason why Ron and Hermione shared the dreams with him.

"I'm a coward. I can't even dream on my own." Harry was miserable. He had always known that he would have to live in isolation until the final battle. He cared too much for Ron and Hermione to force them to come to his aid, even if it was what they wanted, and hadn't Ginny already been used as a pawn to bring Harry to Voldemort?

"Do you know that you summoned your friends for help?" Dumbledore had expected this, but had to have the theory tested. "I will not lie to you. If we separated you from them, and placed certain wards around you, it would prevent your contact with them, but then you would be facing Voldemort ALONE."

"Whenever I've faced him before, someone with me dies. I can't let that happen to them, — I just can't." The thought of losing anyone else was overwhelming him, but the thought of leading them to Voldemort and their deaths was impossible to handle in his already guilt ridden world.

"Harry, your friends are to be given more credit than that. They know well that association with you carries risk. They have chosen to stay by your side to whatever end."

"Professor Dumbledore, you must take me out of here! Let him come for me, I can't do this anymore. How many more times can I live through this, only to wait for it to happen again? I'm not a cat, I don't have nine lives!" Harry trailed off as Dumbledore smiled at him.

"Oh I wouldn't know about that Mr. Potter. Griffins are part lion— a cat, Maybe—?"

"Please be serious," Harry begged. "They're the only family I've got!" Harry struggled out the words as he looked at Ron's pale sleeping face. "They've already paid a big price just for being my friends."

"I think we will leave this decision to them Harry. Get some sleep." Dumbledore did not acknowledge his transfer request. As Dumbledore exited the hospital wing, Harry was left to ponder alone all that had been revealed to them tonight.

Harry must have fallen asleep despite all his misgivings because he awoke at the clanging of the breakfast preparations. Everyone from the hospital wing including Madame Pomfrey, Tyler and Stephanie ate together. Harry had no private time to speak with Ron and Hermione as Madame Pomfrey fussed over him in his magical wheelchair, placing him with everyone else at the table for the first time.

"It's so good to see you across the table again," Stephanie said warmly to Harry. "How do you feel this morning?"

"Better thanks," Harry lied. Last night's revelations had taken a toll on him. Although he didn't feel much like eating, he put on a brave face and did his best to pretend to enjoy his meal. In truth he couldn't even taste his food. Harry asked to be excused, saying he was tired, and he was. Madame Pomfrey was concerned and forced some powerful potion on him which made him feel warm and comfortable as he was finally left alone in his room. Ron and Hermione looked heartbroken when he'd declined to tell them what was wrong.

Occlumency lessons were cancelled that day as Harry felt too ill to continue. Alone in his room, he woke with a start to the sound of soft sobbing coming from beside his bed. "Ugh, Dobby! You nearly caught a smack in the head. You startled me! What are you doing here?" Seeing the pained expression on Dobby's face, and the swollen red eyes, indicating many shed tears, he added more kindly, "it's good to see you!"

"When Dobby thought Harry Potter was— was— WHAAAA!" Dobby began to sob again. "Dear Sir, Dobby began to contemplate revenge Sir. Dobby has been beside himself Sir— with worry for you." Dobby was working himself into an bigger mess of tears .

"Dobby , I'm Fine!" Harry insisted

"Dobby may be only be a house- elf Harry Potter, but Dobby can see you are not fine— Sir," he added after a pause.

"Okay, I'm not." Harry could for some reason admit this to Dobby only. "But I will be. Madame Pomfrey's already done more for me in a few days than weeks somewhere else." Harry remembered the painful weeks he'd spent at St. Mungos with a wince.

"Harry Potter has had so much misery," Dobby said with sympathy, reaching out to touch Harry's shoulder. "We house- elves is all fired up to help Harry Potter. We is magical creatures too, Harry Potter. Dobby knows now that alone, he can not save you from he- who- must- not- be- named, but Dobby knows Sir, about the Order of the Phoenix. Dobby knows of a pledge that has been made on your behalf and Dobby is proud Sir. Proud to say that Dobby has also made this Pledge Sir. To Save Harry Potter. To keep Harry Potter from more harm!" Dobby sounded so proud that Harry, although wanting to make Dobby renounce his pledge to him, felt that Dobby would never survive the injustice and would probably think that Harry only asked him to renounce his pledge because he was a house- elf. Harry almost couldn't help feeling buoyed by Dobby's sincere concern for him and his earnest offer of help.

"Thanks Dobby." Harry was somewhat familiar with Dobby's magic, but he didn't think he could be of much help.

"Dobby senses that Harry Potter does not gain much comfort from Dobby's offer to come to his aid."

"Oh, no Dobby please don't think that I'm not grateful. I just think it's something I have to do on my own. I can't risk you. I can't risk Ron and Hermione. I can't do this. I swear I'd just run away if— "

"Harry Potter cannot run away! Harry Potter cannot walk yet!" Dobby said sadly. "Dobby knows what Harry Potter thinks. Harry Potter is noble and wishes to save his friends, but Harry Potter's friends will not be saved by his absence. Harry Potter is bound by prophecy Sir, and Dobby feels in his heart Sir, that you have been bound together with certain people to help you." For a house- elf, Dobby sure knew a great deal about feelings. Harry wondered if they all were all as bright and individual as Dobby after so many years of servitude to others, not to mention abuse and neglect. "And Harry Potter must not forget that we house- elves also were affected by the reign of terror brought down upon us during the reign of he- who- must- not- be- named. There are reasons, Harry Potter which do not concern you why many of us would fight he- who- must- not- be- named. Indeed Harry Potter we stand ready by your side." Once again Dobby reminded Harry, rather forcefully "we is magical creatures too, Harry Potter!" The flash in Dobbys eyes made Harry realize that there was more to these strange creatures than cooking and cleaning.

Harry coughed and it hurt his chest. Dobby was almost moved to tears again. "Please don't Dobby— Really I'm fine."

"Dobby and his friends in the kitchen have made Harry Potter a present Sir, but Harry Potter must have it with friends. We house- elves were so relieved to find you had lived that we hade it for you Sir." Dobby clapped his hands and a seven layer double chocolate cake appeared out of nowhere. "Sixteen is a special year for house- elves too, Harry Potter. It is late, but we thought you were—." Sniffles followed before an audible, "dead, Sir."

Dobby called everyone into Harry's room, even though it was the last thing he'd wanted in the world right now. This time everyone included Neville and Luna Lovegood, Ginny, Fred and George Weasley as well as the Griffindor Quidditch team.

Harry tried hard to perk himself up, but everyone knew how down he was. There were sixteen candles lit by Dobby on the spectacular cake and Harry as tired as he was had to take two breaths to blow them out. Dobby was so pleased to present Harry with such a beautiful cake that Harry make the effort to cheer up just for him. Apparently everyone had known of this little party because they all had presents for him.

"But you already gave me presents at St. Mungos," Harry reminded Ron and Hermione when they presented him with a gift between them. Harry opened it and his fingers trembled as he took the small object out of the box. It was Sirius's mirror, repaired and looking just the same as the day Sirius had given it to him. Harry couldn't speak. He just stared into the blank mirror. How he had regretted breaking this object which Sirius had given him to be able to contact him should he be in trouble. Harry had been in turmoil and had deliberately smashed the mirror when Sirius did not appear in it as Harry hoped he would, because it would have meant that Sirius was alive.

"I hope you don't mind Harry When your personal effects arrived here shortly after I did, the house- elves were still on holiday, so I began to straighten up your things and put things away for you. This mirror just fell out and I'm so sorry Harry, it broke. I wanted to tell you, but I just couldn't. I tried to use the Reparo charm on it, but it wouldn't work, so I took it to Professor Dumbledore. He said it was made about the same time as the mirror of Erised, only it will show not what was, but what is. Professor Dumbledore used a charm on it I'd never heard of. Then the mirror began to speak," Hermione related apologetically.

BLACK AS NIGHT, VEIL EVER BLINDING

TWO SOULS THAT DESIRE BINDING

REFLECTIONS NEW, REFLECTIONS OLD

ONLY BY YOUR TRUE HEART TOLD

REFLECTIONS OF THE LIGHT OF LIFE

LIFE THAT FADES ON EDGE OF KNIFE

INKY BLACKNESS NOW ONE DWELLS

TEARS ENOUGH TO FILL DEEP WELLS

"Then Professor Dumbledore uttered a Reparo charm and every break and chip melted back together like water. For a minute it was all black as coal and no reflection could be seen, but then a minute later, it all cleared up and became normal again," Hermione finished quietly.

Harry had no idea why getting this mirror back was so important to him. "Hermione, you didn't break it. It was already broken. I — ah— dropped it, but THANKS." Harry would have stared at the mirror for an hour if everyone wasn't still there. He knew Sirius was gone, and that he'd have to treasure this mirror as an object only, not for it's original purpose of allowing Harry to contact Sirius. Harry was beginning to be able to lock away his feelings again, now that he was feeling a better. Only Ginny caught the brief look of grief cross Harry's features. When Harry saw her gaze leave his face and focus on the mirror, he tucked it away. He couldn't talk about it now.

Harry seemed a little out of breath from all the emotions welling up inside him from seeing the mirror again and having so many people in his room. Ron cringed and was just about to get after Ginny for sitting down on the edge of Harry's bed and gently placing his oxygen mask on his face for a few moments. When Harry didn't protest when Ginny laid her hand on his chest and rubbed gently in circular motions, Ron raised his eyebrows toward Hermione who was equally shocked. Harry had never willingly let anyone touch him like this. Even kind old Madam Pomfrey had felt the teen cringe and withdraw into himself any time she had to change a dressing or examine him, even if it was not painful. Sometimes even a gentle reassuring touch on the shoulder from his best friend had caused Harry to jump in a jittery fashion when it was not expected, yet here was Ginny, sitting with Harry's eyes utterly transfixed on her face as if there was no one else in the room. When Ginny felt Harry had sufficiently recovered his breath and felt better, she laid the mask back beside his face and remained beside him sitting on the bed. Harry almost had no idea what had come over him. All he knew was that he felt worlds better. Hermione placed her finger under Ron's chin to stop his awestruck wonder.

Mr. and Mrs Granger, who were leaving Hogwarts this evening, gave Harry a large book, which he was politely puzzled about, but nonetheless grateful. It was a book on entertaining, complete with pictures and recipes, but it was out of date by long shot, even for muggles. "Er, thanks," he said as politely as he could.

"There's a reason for that one, mate," Ron happily informed Harry, as he checked out a page with a young man dressed in belle bottoms, dancing with his partner who was making hand gestures as though they were hailing a cab or stopping a bus. "Thanks," he said once again, not being able to get the mirror out of his mind.

Hagrid had sent a gift, along with a note, which read, 'Dear Harry, just training hard to continue my plans of last year. 'Oh no ,' Harry thought, visions of a beaten up Hagrid popped into his mind, but Grawpy, Hagrid's half brother had indeed come a long way, and Hagrid wrote, he may be safe enough to bring closer to home. Hagrid had been teaching Grawpy human etiquette and language, and even Harry, Ron and Hermione had to admit, that maybe, just maybe he could be trained after all.

"Harry dear, you know we usually save your gift for when you come to us in the summer, but this summer...Well, here you are dear." At first, Harry didn't understand. It was a gold galleon. Harry had, especially now that he'd inherited Sirius's family fortune, enough money, but when he looked at the coin closer, he realized it was two hundred years old. It was a rare, very sought after coin, even Harry knew that.

"But Mrs Weasley, I couldn't..." Mrs Weasley had always given Harry items he would treasure, like hand knitted jumpers and home baking, but nothing of huge monetary value.

"Harry, you can and you will," Mr. Weasley told him, smiling.

"You see, that coin comes from Ron's grandfather, on his father's side. It is the only Weasley fortune. You see, every Weasley male receives one of these coins on his sixteenth birthday. Harry was about to point out that he wasn't a Weasley, but the way they were all looking at him, made the lump that had formed in his throat too much manage words.

"Our ancestors were fishermen, Harry," Mrs Weasley continued proudly. No doubt you've heard stories of mermaids saving the lives of fishermen? Well one day, almost two hundred years ago, two vessels were on a fishing expedition. One net was magiced to take only abundant fish, while the other was magiced to just indiscriminately scoop as much fish as possible, putting many species in danger. On one of the expeditions, a mermaid was trapped in the net. The wizards refused to release her. They were going to put her on display for profit, or worse yet, sell her to the muggles. No offense dear," she apologized, glancing at Hermione. "Ron's great, great, great grandfather intervened, and a duel ensued which ended in his victory. The mermaid was set free and the ruffians were rendered shipless."

In gratitude for saving her, the mermaid brought her saviour fifty gold coins from a shipwreck on the bottom of the ocean. He could have been a rich man, but instead he started a family tradition. When a Weasley male becomes sixteen, a coin is taken from the Weasley family vault and is given to him. After extensive meetings with Ron's grandfather, a coin was set aside for your birthday."

Somehow, the Weasleys, for having known about the coin, were still very excited about it, and talked among themselves for a moment while Hermione, feeling this a very chauvinistic policy, asked just what the female in the family got. She felt that Ginny would feel very excluded. Harry was somewhere else in his mind as Mrs Weasley explained, "Ah, yes. As we've only one girl, we don't often speak of it. Weasley girls are a rarity, so, one of the twelve golden tiaras which great, great, great grandfather also received, is given to each Weasley female when she marries." Seeing Ginny's dreamy expression, Hermione held her tongue, but said to herself, 'Oh good grief, a dowry!'

Ginny deliberately did not look at Harry when the tiara was mentioned. She didn't want her reputation for having had a crush on the famous boy- who- lived to come back, but to herself, and she didn't want to admit it, she had for a brief second, pictured Harry and herself getting married. No, that crush was over. She was practical now. She willed herself not to look at him. Had she done so, she would seen have Harry come out of his intense thoughts about the mirror and Sirius and what exactly the Weasleys were trying to tell him with the coin, to see him look at her and smile. His thoughts did not go as far into the future as hers had, because he had secrets that deep down, he didn't think he would have future at all. He just thought staring at the beautiful redhead for that second, 'yeah, Weasley girls are a rarity."

These coins were worth a fortune, but it was a testament to the family that even Fred and George, who could be less than sentimental at times, had not tried to sell them to get their joke shop money before Harry had become their benefactor. This was a family tradition, something to be cherished and passed down through generations.

Harry could only guess that sixteen was the age when parents finally thought you were trustworthy to take care of something of value, monetary or sentimental, and he just couldn't help it, he looked at their Ginny again. Sixteen seemed to be the magic number for everything. Eleven o'clock curfew instead of ten, more choice in courses, just more freedom in general, and yet, here he was, layed up in the hospital when he should have been having the time of his life. He wondered if he'd ever get his turn, but the coin he'd just received made him realize that he mattered to someone. He'd always kind of known this, but to have in concrete like this, was almost unnerving. It had been a rather rallying story, Ron's great, great, great grandfather standing up for a creature, that at the time, had no rights under wizarding law. Sure, it wasn't Voldemort, but sometimes, the good guys win, Harry thought.

Harry felt immensely proud holding this coin. He didn't offer it back, seeing how much it meant to the Weasleys for him to have it. Thanks didn't seem enough. This one antique gold galleon alone, could have repaired the burrow and bought new furniture for the entire house, but tradition was worth more. Even Fred and George didn't make jokes when they hugged him this time, although George winced upon bending to hug Harry in his bed. Ginny wiped a tear that Harry hadn't been able to stop from falling from his eyes, so that no one would see. She knew that Harry did not wear his heart on his sleeve. She thought that the coin was the reason for the emotion. She did not know the story of Siriu's mirror, or the fear and guilt that plagued Harry now that he knew that it had been he who had summoned his friends into danger. He had just one consolation. He hadn't summoned Ginny. He wondered if it was built in fear for her safety now that he had seen her so lifeless in the chamber of secrets, or if she didn't feel as close to him as he had previously thought.

When Mrs Weasley hugged Harry, he couldn't help but think of his own mother, and though he had promised Dumbledore that he wouldn't go looking for the mirror of Erised again, if he had been mobile this night, he would certainly have been drawn to it. He knew it wasn't real, but seeing the larger than life pictures of his family, was something he defiantly desired tonight. Harry willed himself not to get emotional, but looking at the Weasleys gathered around his bed, made him know, that although his parents could never be replaced, this was like a second chance for him, even though he had grown up pretty much on his own. It did not diminish his grief, but Harry almost felt a shield grow between the void and himself.

Harry hadn't expected a gift from Ginny, reasoning that she had already given the coin with her family. Blushing profusely, she handed a small rectangular package. It contained a photo album. The difference between this one and the one Dobby had given him, was that the pages in this album, were blank. "I figured it's time for you to start making your own memories, Harry," Ginny smiled at him. Harry was able to take this as a sign of faith from someone who had come to mean a great deal to him, that he would survive, and he found himself wondering who would fill this album in years to come.

Harry was feeling overwhelmed when Dobby presented his seemingly humble gift, a pair of socks. At first, they looked perfectly normal, like all of the rest of the socks he'd received from Dobby over the years, but just as Harry was about to give his sincere thanks, he noticed something strange about the socks. He could have sworn he'd felt them move, and when he placed them on the bed tray over his legs, they did not just flop over like regular socks. Instead, they stayed in perfect foot shape, as though there was already feet in them.

"WO! Those are either the dirtiest, crustiest pair of socks I've ever seen standing up on their own like that, or they're magic, mate," Ron whistled, sounding just the same as he had upon seeing Harry's invisibility cloak for the first time.

"When Harry Potter begins to walk again, balance socks will help him practice. Won't let Harry Potter fall down," Dobby beamed.

"Wow, Dobby, thanks!" Harry was half amused, half apprehensive, wondering how difficult walking for the first time would be. He was determined to do it, though he had been warned it could be a very slow process, with his extensive injuries. Having these socks, made him want to try to walk now...right now, out of here, and take his target ridden self as far away from the people he cared about as possible.

"Harry Potter must not consider leaving Hogwarts!" Dobby warned threateningly, taking Harry by surprise. He had read his mind and gotten him into severe trouble. It was Harry's glance out the window that had given him away in reality. A glance of guilty longing.

"Just as I thought," Hermione scolded Harry, taking Dobby's caution to Harry as truthful. "We could have an alarm placed on you, you know."

"Just promise you won't try that mate," Ron said, sounding terribly upset. They all looked so apprehensive, he promised, but grudgingly. For better or worse, they had bound themselves to Harry's fate, whatever the outcome. Harry realized that yes, sixteen was the magic number, for a lot of things. Ron and Hermione were old enough to understand and choose for themselves. This thought at least, comforted him, but he knew the comfort wouldn't last. 'They should have left me years ago,' Harry thought, seeing the danger he had always attracted, but seeing their anxious faces, made him realize, that running away, may be worse on them than staying to fight.

The cake did taste wonderful, and being chocolate, made Harry feel somewhat better. After they had all had tea, Dobby, who was usually very meek, ushered everyone out, informing them that, "Harry Potter is very tired. He needs to rest. Please come back later." Even Ron, who shared Harry's room, took the hint and went for a walk with Hermione, his brothers and Ginny, who went to see the and their parents off. The danger in the telephotus dreams had been managed for now, and were now in a steady study phase. The parents did not feel entirely good about leaving, but they knew that with Dumbledore in charge of the school once more, it was as safe as any place could be in these troubling times.

"Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby asked, becoming quiet and reserved again.

"Dobby, you don't have to call me Sir," Harry told him. He really was very tired, and though glad to have a moment to take it all in, he missed them all just the same. Mrs Weasley had just barely managed to refrain from crying, and if she had, Harry honestly didn't know if he would have had the strength not to join her.

"These is not just practice socks, they is walk socks," Dobby explained.

"What are walk socks, exactly?" Harry asked waking up just a little more.

"Dobby is making them for you, Harry Potter, but you must promise, Sir, not to run away when you is learning how to use them! Walk socks will not make you strong enough to walk on your own, Harry Potter...only time can do that," he said sadly. Dobby has his reasons for making them for you sir, but you must not leave Hogwarts. Harry Potter must promise!" For Dobby, who had spent almost an entire year to keep Harry from staying at Hogwarts, he was sure insistent that Harry stay now.

Harry picked them up appreciatively. "Can I try them now, Dobby?"

"Ah Sir! Dobby knows Harry Potter is not to get out of bed to try walking for two more weeks, Sir," the house- elf informed him sadly, seeing the hopeful gleam leave Harry's eyes, but Dobby would never risk Harry's health for any reason that wasn't vital. "Harry's bones and lungs are not strong enough yet." Dobby was plainly pained for having to refuse him anything. He would have done anything for this boy, except jeopardize his recovery.

"Right...well thanks anyway Dobby," said Harry, trying not to sound too thoroughly dejected. For reasons he could not explain even to himself, Harry tucked the walk socks safely out of anyone's else's site. Deep down, he knew that his friends, fearing that Harry would get all noble on them, and try to flee the school to save them from being near him, would try to confiscate them for his own safety. Harry would sit and contemplate this very plan unbeknownst to any of them many times, fighting to disregard his desire to get as far away from this place as possible to save everyone.


	21. Don't Know What I Did Last Night

The following week saw things return to a sense of near normal as possible at Hogwarts. In between sleep occlumency naps, Ron and Hermione did their school work, which was sent to them from their professors, and Harry was instructed to, 'just rest,' as the occlumency was taking far more from him than from Ron and Hermione. If he had to hear, 'just rest,' one more time, he thought he would explode. He even begged Ron and Hermione to share their school work with him. Hermione was extremely surprised and curious when Harry somehow instinctively knew the answers to her transfiguration questions. She felt put to shame, but proud, when Harry answered every question, from every subject she and Ron had asked him. Her eyes narrowed as she finally burst out, "How did you know that!" when Harry answered a question that she did not know the answer to.

"I...er...I don't know...I just do." Harry was extremely impressed with himself, but at the same time, he was just as puzzled as they were about his sudden scholarly knowledge. He started to wonder what else he knew. He started to mentally go over his lessons of last year, including potions, his worst subject. Did he know and remember any of it? "Yes I do," he answered himself, amazed.

"I've read about this in medical journals. You've had trauma to your head, Harry. Sometimes a person can emerge from a head injury with some formerly hidden talents or knowledge very heightened. It's a form of brain damage," Hermione replied without thought

"Hermione!" snapped Harry indigently.

"You don't understand. Sometimes, the injury to one's brain, can unlock memories or spark different parts of the brain that we don't normally use to function. I have a cousin who had an injury to his brain. When he recovered, he discovered a talent that he didn't possess before. He is an accomplished artist now. His painting hang in fine galleries all over the world."

"Fascinating," Harry said dully. "Don't tell anyone, they'll only want to dissect me or something, or think I'm even more of a freak than they first thought."

"Or," piped in Ron, trying to put a positive spin on things, which Hermione already considered positive, "we could just keep it our little secret and freak Snape out when Harry gets straight O's in potions."

"This is all revision from last year. Let's see if you learn something new, if you can retain it. Hermione took out one of her early N.E.W.T. books Harry had never seen before. She nearly choked when Harry answered most of the questions she put to him. Still others he couldn't, so she figured that this new talent of his, must be largely retroactive. "Still, you're well on your way to getting top marks."

As Ron and Hermione returned to their study, Ginny popped in, having come to see Harry during a cancelled class. When Harry found out that the cancelled class had been Hagrid's he was a little apprehensive that Hagrid had been injured by Grawpy or something, but when Ginny informed him that Hagrid was writing his first exam already, toward his N.E.W.T.S, Harry was very proud.

Harry had to admit that he was glad for the company. He wasn't tired, and he'd been lonely. He hated to admit that, even to himself, though. George, who had spent the first week playing exploding snap with him during his own recovery, had now returned to classes. He couldn't help but wonder if this was what having brothers and sisters was like, someone to keep you keep you company in times like this. Ginny got him a glass of water, and when she saw him wince a bit, sitting up, she began to rub his back gently. Harry was just about to protest, but something stopped him. Her hair smelled wonderful, and he enjoyed the warmth of her hand on his shoulders. None of the potions had made a real difference in the tightness in his shoulders, but this did.

They talked about safe comfortable topics, and Harry felt his shoulder muscles relax to the point that he felt quite drowsy. Ginny smiled as Harry, who wouldn't admit he was falling asleep, pretended to keep up with the conversation, not very convincingly, though, as Ginny tested whether or not he was paying attention by saying that the Chudley Cannons had just won the world cup, and all Harry could say was, 'that's nice,' in a slurred voice. He didn't want the visit to end. When Harry had finally succumbed to sleep at her gentle touch and had slumped forward, Ginny reclined his bed and covered him up warmly. She could have sworn he'd smiled when she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. She would never have done this, had he been awake. She would have pecked him on the cheek, but couldn't resist something she may never get the chance to do while he was awake.

For the first time in many months, Harry's dream was a good one. Ginny had occupied his every thought. He wouldn't be going anywhere in his dreams today. He dreamed that Ginny was still rubbing his shoulders, and she had kissed him. He could almost feel her soft lips on his, and they lingered there for awhile after she had stopped...

After a week and a half of sleep occlumency lessons, Harry, who had secretly been trying to shut out Hermione and Ron from entering the dreams, at least managed to send Snape, Tyler, and Ron back to their beds. He and Hermione were now alone. "Wow, impressive. Your will sent them back, I wonder how long it will be before you can throw Voldemort off, or better yet, not answer the summons at all," Hermione challenged, sounding very impressed. Harry made no reply. He wanted to send Hermione back as well. It was his plan to send them all back, should they ever be summoned to his side in times of danger ever again. After the two hours were up, Hermione floated down voluntarily to her own room, tauntingly wishing Harry better luck next time. He shook his head and smiled, in spite of the failure.

Before Harry went to bed the next night, Fred and George presented him with a music tape, instructing him to listen to it when he had free sleep time, which was pretty often, since people pushed sleep on him. Ginny had come in halfway through their visit. She had been rubbing his shoulders almost every day now. She insisted that since he looked so very tired, he should put the music on and fall asleep while she rubbed his shoulders. He considered this very rude, but as she reminded him with a forgiving smile, "You didn't seem to mind the first time," and with thoughts of that kiss from his dream, he drifted off to sleep immediately. Ron and Hermione had been given permission to visit the Griffindor common room. They felt it was time they made their first public appearance alone since it had been revealed that Harry was still alive.

Ginny kissed Harry gently again, as she had started to do as soon as he had fallen asleep on every visit. She left quietly, whispering to Harry that she was going to the common room as well, which was not at all true. She didn't know why she had bothered to lie to the sleeping boy, as she caught herself staring at his chest rising and falling gently and saw peace in his face for the first time in a long while as he slept. She was glad of this, as even in sleep, she knew Harry was finding no respite from his new reality lately.

Sure enough, as Ron and Hermione made their way nervously to their common room, they ran into a gang of Slytherins in the corridor. "Oh look, it's Weasley and his mudblood girlfriend," Pansy Parkinson shrieked. "You know, the stunningly pretty one!" she laughed, recalling Rita Skeeter's article about Harry. "What's the matter, Granger, Harry not interesting enough for you now that he's half dead?" Hermione could not believe how callous they were being.

Hermione was usually so full of grace, that she would usually have walked away from this before, but now, she just had no patience. She withdrew her wand from her robe and trained it on Pansy, causing the rest of the gang to scatter. Just like all bullies, Pansy was just no good without her companions backing her up. She turned and ran. Hermione seriously considered a behind enlarging curse, but Ron reminded her that they would be unpopular as it was, without losing Griffindor points for duelling in the halls. Hermione had a sudden new sense of respect for Ron, who would normally have lost his head hearing these insults hurled at her.

"Well, okay, but don't be too proud of my self control just yet," Ron admitted. "I don't think Pansy's going to like her new pets."

"What did you do?" Hermione half scolded, half coaxed the information out of him. He had stood up for her after all. She hated feeling good about this, but she did.

"Nothing dangerous," was all he would tell her through a crooked smile.

They made their way to the portrait of the fat lady and realized that they didn't know the password. As they stood there, unable to gain entry, they felt they didn't belong anymore, especially without Harry. It felt like they didn't belong anywhere. It suddenly didn't matter to them if they got in or not, or if they were greeted with welcome or disdain. The fat lady finally broke their thoughts by asking again, "password?"

"The fact is, we don't know," Hermione admitted.

"Might be just as well, dearies," the fat lady advised.

"Why's that?" Ron demanded.

"Don't you get snippy with me, young man," the fat lady said indignantly.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"If I were you, I'd wait another week before returning, until the hurt sentiments subside. Your house mates are already beginning to accept that the lie was necessary," the fat lady informed them. Ron and Hermione were not at all surprised that the fat lady knew all about Harry's near death. Ron was just about to open his mouth in angry retort, when the fat lady soothed, "It is a strange thing with young people. They need to sort things out for themselves, even when they have been told the whole truth. Trust me, things will be better in a week's time." The fat lady had never given advice before and they didn't know what to make of it. There was nothing for it, they had to leave. As they were leaving, Neville Longbottom emerged from inside the common room. The portrait swung shut as he caught up to them.

"How's Harry? Anything wrong?" Neville asked nervously.

"He's feeling better all the time, Neville, it's okay," Hermione assured him quickly.

"When I saw the two of you, I thought something must have gone wrong, Whew!" Neville was so relieved, he sat down heavily on a carved bench. The three of them had pleasant conversation, despite the tensions in the school. The fat lady had received company. Her friend Violet had flitted quickly into her frame. They caught snippets of conversation, but paid little attention. Violet seemed upset about something, but than, she was always ranting about something or spreading gossip.

"Well naturally I called after them to show more respect," Violet related indigently. "Seven of them in all, flying on brooms in the hallway no less. Slytherins no doubt, though I couldn't swear to it. They were masked, the hoodlums. I've a good mind to inform the headmaster, the foul mouthed ill tempered little hoodlums! why in my day..."

"Well Vi, you know I would if I were you I'd report the little ruffians," the Fat Lady replied sympathetically.

"I'll just calm my nerves with a little sherry and than I'll do just that." This was the point where Ron and Hermione became a little nervous.

Harry lay, having a really restful sleep, still feeling the kiss on his lips, which suddenly became a smothering hand. He could not cry out. He felt spellotape wound around his head and mouth, and four sets of hands roughly dragged him in agony from his bed. Pain seized his chest and legs when he was thrown roughly into the wheelchair, which only last week, he'd looked forward to using. Fear gripped him as he reached out to grab something stationary to hold onto. His hand hit the walk socks Dobby had given him and he stowed them deftly into his shirt. His heart was racing, his eyes scanning Madame Pomfrey's empty desk. No one was around. Someone was rummaging in his belongings. Someone was removing Harry from the hospital wing!

"Stop! Scoundrels! Filthy thieving hoodlums! Bad form!" Sir Cadogan, who had shown Ron, Harry, and Hermione to their first divination lesson, chased the kidnappers through every portrait, waking their occupants, some of whom joined the chase, raising the alarm. There were calls of "Stop! These awful ritual of abusing first years must stop!" some of the portraits felt that this was merely an initiation of sorts of a new student. Hermione and Ron had convinced themselves that this must be the case too, and still being prefects, they set off to put a stop to it.

Sir Cadogan was the only one who knew all too well that Harry had been taken for real, and this was no joke. By the time Ron, Neville and Hermione had heard Sir Cadogan yelling after the brutes to drop their prey, he was so agitated, he was screaming toward the great oak doors of the front entrance. "Come back! I will champion for him!"

"Sir Cadogan!" Ron shouted, "what's going on?"

"They've taken young Mr. Potter, the filthy rotten scoundrels! I chased them valiantly, but alas, my canvases end here," he related sadly.

"Which way did they go? Did you see?" Hermione demanded, grabbing the portrait Sir Cadogan was standing in right down off the wall.

"Just enough to see that they went toward the giant's hut, my lady," he bowed. "I could see no further.

"Neville, get Professor Dumbledore and anyone else you can find, quick!" Ron ordered, as he and Hermione drew their wands and raced outside into the cool damp fall night. They burst into Hagrid's hut without knocking as Hagrid dropped a large steaming cauldron full of boiling soup stock of some kind. Large bones hit the floor, and Hagrid leapt out of the way of the hot broth now covering almost the entire floor.

"What the ruddy h..." Hagrid bellowed.

"Harry's been kidnapped!" Hermione blurted out, to stop the tirade they were surely going to get if this had been unimportant. Hagrid grabbed his crossbow, not bothering to change his wet socks, and stepped into his large boots as quickly as they had ever seen him do.

"Let's go. Did you alert Dumbledore?"

"Yes," replied Ron, running three strides to Hagrid's one. Tracks showed where Harry's chair had bumped along the ground in unsteady forced flight. This was the only trail and it led into the Forbidden Forest. There was no apprehension about entering the Forbidden Forest this time. They had to save Harry. Fang and Max plunged into the Forbidden Forest on a scent.

Following as best they could, it did not take them long to find trouble. The Centaurs had heard the ruckus the kidnappers had made, but had failed to catch them. "Hagrid!" an angry voice boomed out from a place they could not see. It seemed to echo around them.

"We warned you not to enter these woods again, especially with the foals, they are destructful. Bane stepped slowly out into the light of Hagrid's lantern. Blood trickled slowly from a fresh wound in his shoulder. "You will not plead the case successfully for these wreched little beings this time, Hagrid. The rest of them brought trouble, marching right through bold as moonlight on leafless trees!" Bane thundered, rearing up to trample them down. Hagrid tried to be as diplomatic as one could be a dire situation like this. He explained that Harry had been kidnapped, but Bane merely looked skyward, acting as bored and impatient with the explanation as he could be.

"I'm warnin' yeh, Bane, I'll shoot yeh sure as look at yeh, if you harm either of these "foals," Hagrid informed him forcefully, seeming larger to Hermione and Ron than he'd ever been. The Centaur seemed to consider this. "I want the one who gave me this wound," Bane growled. "I will permit you to search for the lost foal, but the one who gave me this wound will not leave the forest." The tone of the Centaur's voice made no room for bargaining. "You will barter him to me for the safe return of these foals you seem so fond of." There was the sound of many hooves drawing near. They were encircled. "We will keep you foals until Hagrid brings us the one who did this. We will have a trial here.These two foals will be our collateral that you will return with the guilty one. We will give you two sunsets to bring us the guilty or we will serve justice on these foals!"

Hagrid pleaded uselessly for their freedom, but Hermione and Ron were now being held captive as well. "Two sunsets Hagrid!"

"Don' worry, I won't let you down." Hagrid promised the new prisoners. Even with wands, they were outnumbered and mismatched.

"Please, Mr Bane!" pleaded Hermione. "My friend would die at the hands of those kidnappers. You see Harry's really, really sick, he's not supposed to be—"

"Speak not of you trivialities!" Bane dismissed, as Hagrid gave them one last look and set off to search for Harry.

Harry was bumped around so harshly, he slipped in and out of consciousness as he was jabbed and taunted with wands. The voices were muffled behind the masks of his attackers and he could not discern who was speaking. SMACK! A backhand across his face came from one of the masked thugs. "Think you can just have our fathers locked up and just get away with it, DO YOU POTTER?" Harry tasted blood but he could not spit it out. He had to swallow it because of the spellotape binding his mouth.

"We've just conjured the Dark Mark. I 'd not be surprised if Voldemort himself showed up for the party, not just Death Eaters who are on the way to get you now!" taunted a husky voice that sounded too old to be a student.

Harry was not able to fight off these people, and a cold fear swept over him, waiting for the Dark Lord to come finish his task. The spellotape made it impossible to breathe, and it was only minutes before Harry passed out cold, making the intense pain in his battered body cease. His last hope at this hopeless point, was that Voldemort would not wake him up to kill him.

As he left his pain wracked body behind, he felt a new great strength awaken in him. His giant wingspan unfolded, and his nails elongated as his face distended. He was a Griffin, and yet, quite himself. Harry reasoned that the Dark Lord knew nothing of this intended sacrifice, or else he felt sure that he would appear, at least in this dream. Then he realized that this was not rational, since Ron and Hermione were not here either. It had to be an ordinary dream. If they were here, he would have told them where they would most likely find his lifeless body. Harry wondered why Ron and Hermione had not responded to his fear. Maybe he had finally thrown them off, like he'd wanted to all along for their safety. Now, he almost selfishly wished he hadn't, but than again, they wouldn't be sleeping right now anyway. Maybe they didn't even know what had happened. Maybe no one did.

Ron and Hermione were forced to sit against a large tree. Hermione forcefully quieted Ron. "Don't make any sudden movements. I'm going to pass you a vial of sleep inducement potion. I had my two naps worth in my pocket. Good thing the house- elves didn't put this jumper in the wash. Ieft them a note to tell them I'd deliver my own laundry to the laundry room, to save them some work, and I never got around to taking this because it wasn't dirty anyway.

The Centaurs who had been left to guard the foals as they called them, feared no escape, or indeed paid them any attention, but when they had tried to sneak away, they had been met with a frightening challenge. "We need to get to sleep! Harry will have passed out by now, or maybe he's already d..."

"Hermione, don't say it," Ron begged, gulping down the potion. They felt the tug of fear instantly, as they dropped into immediate sleep, and they knew now that all the hard work had paid off somewhat. They had turned to their animagus forms unwillingly, and were drawn to Harry immediately. Here, he was a Griffin, unhurt and magnificent.

"Ron! Hermione! Over Here!" Harry had been alone there for how long he did not know. He came right to the point, panicking. "You're here, but how can that help any of us? I'm down there. This is only good for Telephotus dreams, not face to face confrontation. They're going to kill me!"

Hermione knew that what she was about to say, would not comfort him, but she blurted it out anyway. "No they can't, remember? Voldemort's got to do it himself."

Harry's body lay on the soft floor of the Forbidden Forest, dying. He heard voices all around him as he faded between his body and his dream animagus form. "My father says that whatever we do, don't kill him," drawled a thickly accented voice.

"Well, he's not breathing the greatest. Take the spellotape off his mouth," said a scared voice. Harry's wings vanished as he reappeared. He stood before Ron and Hermione as a lion.

"Oh man, you guys," said the same scared voice on the ground that Harry now could not hear. "He's not gonna make it until the pickup."

"Enervate!" a commanding voice spoke. The lion before Hermione and Ron, turned into the boy, and with a desperate look, Harry fell out of their sight, and into his own body once more. Ron and Hermione were alone, animagus forms still intact.

"We've got to find his body soon. He mentioned seeing the giant spider webs near Aragog's lair." Hermione said, trying to stay calm enough to think.

"How are we going to find him? We're not going to wake up for hours. We shouldn't have both taken the potion!" Ron scolded himself. "What were we thinking?" The situation seemed hopeless until Tyler's voice broke in on their thoughts. He appeared before them.

"Did you find him?"

"Oh thank goodness you're here, Tyler! How did you get here?"

"Well, my friend," Tyler replied gesturing significantly, not being able to mention Snape's name, lest anyone from the dark side be listening. "Is going to wake me up in a few minutes. Did he come here?" Tyler asked, yet again unable to identify the person he was enquiring after.

"He was here, Tyler, as a Griffin, and than he turned into a lion, and than a human, and than he just...fell." They gave Tyler the clues that Harry had given them about having seen Aragog's webs, and Tyler took this information back to Snape, but could not help them get back to their own bodies, as their potion was still in effect.

Seconds after Tyler had left, Ron and Hermione felt a tug, and Harry appeared before them, just as himself. "You must just not know what's happening anymore when you awake now, because there's very little fear now, and you haven't transformed this time," Hermione said, tears welling up in her eyes. She was smart enough to know what this must mean. Harry had only regained just enough consciousness to be considered awake, as he began to fade from them.

Even on this plain, Harry did not look good. All of the visible injuries now showed vividly. His tone was barely audible. 'Ron, Hermione, I...I think I might be dying. I don't wake up down there, and I'm having a really hard time staying here..."

"Harry don't go!" Hermione sobbed, feeling her feathers leave and her body return to her own. The summons had been broken.

"Hold on, Harry, they know where you are. They're coming for you. I promise you, I will get the ones that did this to you. Harry!" Ron screamed as Harry vanished, staring helplessly into their eyes.

Looking at one another in their own bodies now, Hermione said tearfully, "at least he's not scared anymore, otherwise we'd have stayed in our animagus forms since we're still stuck here for some reason." They had tried to grab Harry back, but they just couldn't pull him back. They hadn't seen Sirius fall through that veil, but now they knew what it was to experience the fear Harry had felt upon witnessing the terrible death. They were as hopeless as they'd ever been.

Tyler ran fearlessly through the Forbidden Forest, following Professor's Dumbledore, McGonagall, Moody, and Lupin, who ran headlong into a large white Centaur.

"Excuse us, we're in a hurry," Tyler apologized to the astounded creature. The Centaur surveyed him warily. "Surely, we are not detaining a foal this young?" the female voice reasoned, until the teachers had all come into full view. Even Bane did not question Professor Dumbledore, although he had shown no outward fear of him.

"Let them pass," Bane instructed, but the bargain stands headmaster of human school. You will leave the one who has spilled my blood to us and will pass out of here, and never come back."

"I do not do as you say, surely, old Centaur. Show some sense, but yes, I will leave the one who spilled your blood to you. Justice will not be served on him in the current climate in our courts, and in this case, I will agree to an eye for an eye, so to speak." Dumbledore spoke firmly, but everyone had to wonder if he had really intended to leave the attackers to Centaur trial. Upon seeing Ron and Hermione slumped against a tree, Dumbledore clapped his hands twice, and uttered an incantation. They awoke immediately, and ran to the teachers, talking very fast.

Professor Dumbledore did not need to leave a chattel as Hagrid had. His word was good enough for the Centaurs present who wanted to be civilized to the old Headmaster. Some, on the other hand, spoke of betrayal, kicking up the dirt under their hooves. Hermione and Ron were very glad to be out of the Centaur's watch.

Ron was quickly leading them all toward Aragog's lair. Harry could hear himself moaning and felt a kick in his side, before he started floating slowly back upward, feeling his wings sweep out of his sides. If he could, he'd dive onto his captors, and rip them apart with his claws. He had been looking forward to seeing Ron and Hermione, perhaps for the last time, figuring that they would still be here waiting for him. He called out to them, feeling panicked, but he could not stay for long, as the tug of life that still remained in his body, called him back to bare consciousness. He opened his eyes blearily, someone calling out, "Enervate filth! You're not getting us into trouble! He's not for us, Crabbe!"

"No names, moron!" shouted a panicked voice towering above Harry's prone form.

"Well don't worry about it. It's not like he can hear us!"

The drawling voice from before, sounded very scared. "No, not him, you idiot, but remember where you are. There's strange things in these woods!"

"Oh, does somebody need baby Death Eater camp? Honestly, you'd think you'd never been in here before, after all your bragging about it all these years!" A huge fight broke out among Harry's captors. Whoever was supposed to pick him up, was late, and nerves were raw. They were terrified Harry would die before he could be presented to the Dark Lord, and he was hit with the enervate charm numerous times.

"If Potter dies, he, and I mean the big HE, will kill us at best! We weren't supposed to kill him!" By the panicked voices, Harry guessed that he had appeared dead. He certainly didn't feel alive. His dreams took him from the rough shaking that one of the captors was doing to him, while slapping him hard in the face.

"Harry Potter, Dobby had made these for you, sir." Dobby's voice floated out of his memories, as he opened one eye. No one seemed to be paying him much attention. He didn't know what they had done to him, but he managed to sneak the walk socks from his pyjamas. He did his best to ignore the pain in his legs as he curled himself into a fetal position and put them on with numb fingers. His captors had seen him curl up, and they took pleasure from it, figuring he had done so out of pain, which wasn't really far off. The night had grown bitterly cold in the forest, especially since all he had on, was his pyjamas, while his captors were dressed in warm cloaks and gloves. The forest areas were much colder than the tame grounds of Hogwarts. His teeth chattered, but the socks at least provided his feet with a little warmth and energy.

The shouting match between Crabbe, and probably Goyle, Harry couldn't tell, grew louder with every minute the pick up was delayed. Harry tried hard to focus on his desire for freedom. He pushed himself up onto his knees, willing himself not to cry out in agony from the effort. He began to crawl pathetically away, to anywhere, as quietly as he could manage, with the crunching of the leaves under him as he slithered along. He got only as far as the tall grasses on the edge of the clearing, when the inky blackness once again enveloped him. He had at least managed to get out of range of their lamplights. However much this would hinder a search for him, he would also be blind now in the dark.

From this position, he glimpsed his captors the minute he came to. They were still fighting. They would notice his disappearance any time now, and sure enough, Gregory Goyle could be heard shouting, "He must have apparated!"

"He doesn't have his wand, you buffoon! I've got it right here." Harry knew no matter what he did, he was outmatched six to one, and even so, his weakened physical state would have made it impossible for him to take even one of these goons on fairly. He thought of using the accio charm to summon his wand, or try expelliarmus without his wand, but than the kidnappers would surely follow the wand's destination and find him immediately. He knew he must have the worst luck in the world, when the moon became unobscured by the clouds, and all the captors had to do, was look a hundred and twenty feet away to see his feeble attempt at freedom. He stood weakly and painfully, and his legs did not obey him, but the socks did. He limped into a vast overgrown thicket and veered left. Once again they could not see him, and he could not see them. Misdirected curses whizzed in all directions, mercifully missing him completely.

The walk socks could only take Harry so far. He was fading. He was not ready to walk, though he had thought to try it, against everyone's advice and even though he had been warned seriously against it. He sunk to the ground, breathing heavily, and clutching his side, where he was sure, the attacker's last kick had done real damage. He felt himself passing out. He was cold, tired, and could take no more. Harry's eyes felt strangely large, and warmth crept back into his body. His assailants caught up to him without problem, taunting him about his failure to escape. Harry felt a ripping sound and figured he had just been hit with a spell of some kind, or he was dreaming. The hooded figures stumbled back in terror, as Harry stood shakily again, turning around behind him to see what had frightened his captors. He let slip and audible cry of despair. He had imagined he would see Dumbledore and a rescue party, but no one was there. He thought his captors were playing with his mind now, just to be cruel. It would be just like them. He looked down at his feet, tears in his eyes, and was shocked when he saw Dobby's socks shredded by his fiercely sharp claws, hanging, cuffs only on his ankles. When his captors turned and ran, Harry was staring after them, wondering how they had joined his dreams, but when he looked around, he was still in the thicket in the Forbidden Forest. He had no pain and he felt powerfully strong. All other thoughts left him as he felt he almost grinned over his elongated eye teeth. A furious growl escaped his mouth, and he tore off through the forest, with a lust for revenge.

Harry became instantly aware of his heightened senses. He could smell their fear. He charged at his attackers relentlessly, feeling only stings from full Cruciatus curses. He crashed into a large body that he figured must be one of Malfoy's henchmen, Gregory Goyle from Slytherin. Harry opened his mouth, revealing deadly sharp teeth as the person fell down under the enormous weight of his massive paws. Harry was losing himself to instinct. He opened his mouth to the screams of terror of his prey. He was distracted when he saw a flash of green light emanate from somewhere behind him. Screams, followed by a sucking silence chorused through the clearing. Harry could see the red slit pupils of the eyes standing over two of his captors, who had clearly displeased him. There was no mistaking it, they were dead. Harry got his mind back, gave a final growl at the quaking figure under his massive paws, and ran into the thicket once more. Voldemort was here! Harry could feel the cold fear zapping his new found strength. The panic that ran through him, caused him to fall to the ground, crawling on all fours. As he became himself again, he could feel the sharp rocks and branches on the forest floor cutting into his knees and hands. The last of strength was zapped from his body as he was plunged into agony beyond his wildest imagination when his scar exploded the moment he had taken human form again so close in the presense of the Dark Lord. He was plunged into his own self imposed darkness as he blacked out, writhing on the ground, wishing for it to stop.

When he came to,Harry could no longer feel the intense pain in his scar that had began when he had looked into those pitiless red eyes, and had ended when he took human form, taking the full brunt of the intent of the Dark Lord, who had for some reason, fled. He knew that Voldemort had been very desperate to risk appearing here with Dumbledore so close. One last jolt of pain seared into his scar, as Harry could tell that someone else was being punished. Clearly, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, and Voldemort's Death Eaters were late in meeting the kidnappers, which is why the Dark Lord had come closer to Hogwarts than he'd intended in the first place.

Harry lay on the ground, eyes staring listlessly up into the night sky, unable to call out. He knew he was just having wishful thinking when he heard Hermione's desperate voice call out, "Oh where is he?" Harry's mouth opened to call to that voice, but nothing audible came out. Harry had felt physically drained many times in his life, but this transformation had left him feeling almost senseless and void of even the most minute functions. He was utterly spent.

"Harry's tough, he's gonna be okay...he has to be," assured the unmistakable voice of Ron. Harry wanted so much to get up...to call to them. They could not risk light, not knowing that the captors had fled in sheer terror. Something that he could not explain made Harry crawl pitifully to his knees. His voice would not raise higher than a whisper. "I'm here!" before he sank to the ground, feeling that he'd wasted his last effort on an mirage of his friend's protection. He knew it had been false hope, when a hooded figure rose between he and rescuers in the pitch dark, only visible because of the proximity.

"I'm not going down without a memory attached to my name! I'm taking you out, Potter!" a voice rang out clearly through the haze of the night's shadows. Harry did not know this voice as he stared in the sunken eye holes behind the mask of the approaching wand armed menace. This wizard clearly did not know the prophecy, as he aimed his wand with the unmistakable intent to kill Harry. Hooves sounded in the darkness, as Bane, the Centaur leapt full speed into the postured attacker's midriff, driving him onto his back and disappearing with the kidnapper on his back screaming.

A Centaur, who looked very old, arrived on the scene just as Harry's rescuers arrived. "If blood is to be spilled on our land this night, it will be by us, on our terms. We do not permit the slaughter of foals. Offenses have been committed here against our kind. Your conflicts have drawn a great evil onto our land. We will not return those that we apprehend to your inadequate justice system. Already one of their number have been judged and have no doubt faced expedient trial. He will die for his trespasses this night." The old Centaur related that several humans had been apprehended around the perimeter of the forest, no doubt standing watch. Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh of relief when the old Centaur related that those already killed were not 'foals.'

Hermione was kneeling beside Harry, and even she did not object that this time, the jurisdiction of justice delivery inflicted on the person responsible for Bane's injuries among other crimes. She did however, take offense when the Centaur called the criminal a part of their party. To him, they were all trespassers, and they could take their conflicts elsewhere, though for some reason, he seemed pleased that the 'foal' had not died. Harry's eyes fluttered open and closed several times, as the voices around him argued and negotiated Harry's passage from the Dark Forest unimpeded by the Centaurs. Professor Lupin held Harry's head in his hands and spoke softly to him. For a person who had witnessed so much pain in his life, Remus Lupin still had tears in the corners of his eyes. "It's going to be okay now Harry. It's over."


	22. The Harry Potter Museum

Everyone in Harry's rescue party, was surprised when Dumbledore did not argue that fate of the kidnappers to the Centaurs. He seemed to agree, that the kidnappers who had the misfortune to have been caught by the Centaurs, had gotten exactly what they'd deserved, a swift death. Harry heard whispers of great concern about himself, and about the fate of the armed trespassers, like Hagrid, who had hit one of the kidnappers with an arrow from his bow. Hagrid was released briefly to await the verdict of the Centaurs about his intrusion into their forest. To them, no matter the reason, this was not his first offense. Professor Lupin wrapped warming blankets around Harry, while Hagrid started a small fire, to the disgust of the Centaurs. Professor Moody took a different flask from his pocket, telling Harry to drink some of the contents, explaining that the contents of this flask were for his rheumatism, an effect of all his injuries sustained as an Auror. Harry's cold shaking stopped, but the pain lessened only slightly.

Professor Dumbledore rejoined their group, who wondered impatiently why he, the most powerful wizard of his time, hadn't just informed the Centaurs that they were leaving, given permission or not. Dumbledore explained to their great annoyance, that this wasn't the way things were done in a civilized world, and that they needed the Centaurs as on their side as possible. After all, they lived and guarded the forests surrounding Hogwarts. In return for their release, Dumbledore promised to speak on behalf of the Centaurs, who shunned formal contact with humans, to obtain more land for them. Dumbledore paused for a moment and everyone knew that though he had agreed to the swift execution of the masked kidnappers, he did not delight in the death of one's so young, if indeed any of the dead by the hand of Voldemort or the Centaurs, were students from his school. His only consolation was that, as a person old enough, and no one knew how old, to be able to do something so heinous, there would be little chance that this person would have ever changed into a productive law abiding citizen anyhow. They had nearly committed murder. Hermione knew however, that Dumbledore would have preferred to give them jail terms and give them a chance to rehabilitate. Somehow, Dumbledore knew, though no one else did, that these were the children of Death Eaters, raised on hate. For most, there was no turning back.

As waves of coherent thought came to Harry, he wondered with a shiver of inner horror, if he had actually ripped his enemy to shreds. He had never even come to grips with the fact that one day, he would have to kill Voldemort, but killing a fellow student, even out of extreme necessity, made him feel even sicker. He fought hard not to vomit, as he pondered what he had done, yet at the time, he knew he'd intended to kill. He couldn't remember tasting blood, but now he rolled onto his side, and vomited. Harry couldn't remember. Had he killed Gregory Goyle?

"We need to get him inside to Madame Pomfrey!" Hermione pleaded for speed. Dumbledore used an extremely strong accio charm, and Harry's wheelchair appeared almost immediately, no worse for the wear. He was levitated onto it, and lay among the many soft blankets with his eyes closed tightly.

"I'm a murderer!" he sobbed weakly to Dumbledore, who looked down on him with his very blue eyes full of concern.

"No, Harry, you are nothing of the sort," Dumbledore explained to Harry in no uncertain terms. Harry knew that Dumbledore was only placating him because he was so sick. "You would not have killed that person, not unless he put your very life in danger. Self defence is natural and noble. You would have stopped yourself once the right amount of control had been achieved to save your life. Harry had wanted to believe him, but he remembered his lust for revenge. He knew he would have avenged Sirius's death, with death, but the thought did not comfort him. He was not a Killer. Why was Dumbledore so certain that Harry had not killed this person, when Harry was so certain he had?

Taking leave of the Centaurs, Dumbledore prepared to retrieve the two dead students. "If you take them back to your school, their fathers will be swift behind you," advised Bane. We have heard of these Death Eaters. There is little we do not know about. There is much in the sky for your kind. You would do well to look skyward more often." Bane was not often heard giving out advice. Bane dismissed the elderly Centaur, reiterating that the dead students should be left to the Centaur's disposal. Dumbledore said what looked like a prayer, and making sure that they were truly dead, left the bodies with a heavy heart.

Harry was provided with a smooth ride back to the castle, and for the first time, Hermione wished that apparation was possible into the castle, as Harry was still so very cold for some reason. He had been given a calming potion, which only dulled the ache of guilt of the crime he still felt sure he'd committed. 'Did I kill Goyle!' he heard his voice ask. He now recognized the solid frame of the boy, as he had morphed into a Griffin. He knew that Voldemort had killed one of the masked students, just as the student had raised a killing curse toward Harry. As his mind became clearer, he could remember someone begging for mercy, pleading for his life. He remembered hearing himself growling fiercely, and than that sickening ripping sound...He could remember no more, and in his panicked state, he wondered if he'd killed anyone else before he'd even reached Goyle. Calming potion or not, Harry was anything but.

As if sensing Harry's gaze, Professor Lupin did his best to look neutral. He bent over Harry, as though checking him over. "Harry, don't worry about it. We'll sort it out." Now Harry was worried about what Remus Lupin had meant by this statement. Did he mean that Harry would be protected from punishment, or did he mean they'd figure out for certain that he hadn't killed this boy. Harry didn't know why he felt guilty. They had taken him and his wand...where was his wand? The last Harry had heard, the kidnappers had it, intent on giving it to Voldemort as a prize.

Professor Lupin was still talking softly to Harry, but he was no longer coherent. Many were the times before the invention of the Wolfsbane potion, that poor Remus in his young life, would sit and cry alone, feeling the same doubt and fear that Harry harboured now, 'have I killed someone?' If there was anyone in the world who could relate to the awful feeling of doubt that is left in a person when they can't remember their own actions, it was Lupin. Professor Lupin's heart ached for the boy, as he remembered his life before Dumbledore had made arrangements for him to attend Hogwarts. His life had been hell until he met Harry's father James and Sirius, who learned to become Animagi to run around with him while he was a werewolf on full moons. Until than, his life had been solitary, and filled with hopelessness.

A whining voice in Harry's head played back like a recording from his kidnappers. "But I wanted it as a souvenir. After all, once he's dead, it'll be worth a fortune. I heard from my dad, that it's the twin of the Dark Lord's himself! I know a few girls at school who'd be impressed with it. We'd be heros!" Heros? Ginny...what would she think once she found out he was a murderer? Harry didn't know why it mattered at a time like this. He could see her look of revulsion in his mind. There would be no more dream kisses placed upon his lips every night, when she found out that he had bitten someone to death. No tender lips would ever touch his again, but what did it matter, he thought hopelessly, ' I'm not going to survive all this anyway.' Harry felt anger rise in him once more, which was a good thing, because it was the only thing keeping him going, now that he figured that Ginny would be repulsed by him.

Now Harry knew how Neville had felt when his wand had been destroyed at the Ministry of Magic last year. It had been as special to Neville as Harry's was to him, perhaps even more so because Neville's had belonged to his father when he'd been an auror. Harry would feel lost without it. He wondered if he'd ever get a new one. He'd tried so many that were unsuitable for him at Ollivanders. His wand had almost felt like a friend at some of his most challenging times.

Harry was cold and exhausted and he grew quickly tired of everyone staring at him anxiously. He closed his eyes, falling into uneasy rest. He began to dream that he was a ghost. He had killed Voldemort, but had been killed in the process. It wasn't long before Harry could not tell if he was dreaming, or if this was reality. He was in Diagon Alley, as unseen as if he were wearing his invisibility cloak. He paused at a sign which read, 'see the Harry Potter Museum. There was a price list for the cost of admission which had read one gold galleon, crossed out to read, two silver sickles, and finally, crossed out to read, one bronze knut, buy one admission, get the second half off. He entered through the door out of habit, though he could have entered through the walls easily. The place was dark, and fallen into disrepair, because it had been closed for some time. There were dusty pictures of Harry's parents along with one of Sirius Black, and one of Harry in his seventh year at Hogwarts, which had a candle lit beneath it, and a vase of flowers near it. The curator came slowly out of back room with empty boxes. She began to sadly start packing up the items which were Harry's personal effects. She didn't seem to be able to bring herself to blow out the candle. When she finally did, she placed the daisy in her hair and turned around.

Harry saw to his astonishment, an older Luna Lovegood. She would be almost thirty seven or so, Harry estimated, and with her long hair pulled back into a loose pony tail, she looked almost pretty. She was pretty! Soon the bell on the door rang which used to announce the arrival of visitors to the museum. It was Neville Longbottom. He move toward her, putting his arm around her shoulders, telling her, "I'm so sorry honey." Luna began to sob.

"How could they forget?" she heaved.

"They haven't forgotten, Luna, they've just moved on. It's the way Harry would've wanted it, I'm sure of it." Harry turned around, surprisingly unaffected by this scene. He never expected to become a hero, nor did he want to be one. At least that was cleared up. He had never craved attention and praise, although he felt strangely sympathetic toward Luna, who was taking the closing very hard. The door chimed again, and Fred and George entered, clapping Neville on the back, and each embraced Luna warmly. They had aged well, and appeared to be very wealthy, if attire was an indication of this. Harry turned to look at their joke shop across the street. It had expanded to three times it's previous size, and was still called Weezy's Wizarding Whizbees Joke shop, founded by Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory.

"It's okay Luna, we've decided to use the building as our annex, please don't..." they advised, as she made to pay them the last month's rent on the building. "You see, the thing about the rent we've been charging you, is that we've been investing the money in a high interest account at Gringotts, and put every payment toward a trust for your home for survivors of brain injury. Old number twelve's all ready. We've had crews out there for weeks remodelling. There's an atrium, a therapy room, and a real home cooking kitchen," Fred Began.

"And we bought the adjacent properties and levelled the buildings to make way for gardens and walking paths. St. Mungos is a wonderful place to be for while treatment is ongoing for physical problems, but it's no place to live, and what's even better, they can use one of the wings to treat those crazy kids who joined that new sport, broom balance, I ask you!" George shrugged. "Kids!" Harry was quite certain that if any new dangerous game had come out when the twins were young, they would have joined in immediately.

After the happy banter, there was awkward silence. "Er. well, we'll just get the stuff mom wanted." Luna handed them a box. Fred and George couldn't help going through the old things. There was a picture of Harry and Ron at the burrow, mud caked and surly, after gnome catching in the garden. Harry's cry of dismay at the picture below that one, went unnoticed. It was a picture of Ron, with his birth date and than his death date, which Harry saw was listed as the same date on which he had died. Harry turned upon hearing Fred sigh and tell Luna that "mom will deliver this," which turned out to be a picture of Hermione with the same death date on the frame. Harry could find nothing good in this pile. A picture had been teetering on the edge of the counter and almost fell off, as George just caught it in time. It was Mr. Weasley, earlier birthrate, but same death date.

Fred and George stared longingly at their father in the frame. Harry knew it had to be a dream. They couldn't all be dead, not all of them. He breathed deeply, he didn't know how, since he was a ghost, trying to convince himself that this wasn't real, and than something happened that made him realize that if it was a dream, it had meaning. "Oh please let it be a dream." It hadn't really bothered him that he was dead, he'd been there, done that, but to have his friends and family dead, that was too much. Suddenly his own death bothered him too, as he wondered that since Ron had died on the same day, what had they done with his body, that is, he thought, if there was anything left. Ron would not have burned him, and no one else knew his wishes. It was then that Harry frantically turned in all directions, looking for a shred of information on Ginny and what had become of her.

"If only," George started, a little sad frustration in his voice.

"Harry was just a kid, George. He was scared. He actually did it to save them. That's documented proof."

"He just could not accept that pledge!" George replied to his brother. "If he hadn't taken off by himself to save them from coming with him, they wouldn't have been out in the line of fire looking for him."

"Mom and old Madam Pomfrey said that he just was so scared for them, that he left , thinking they'd be safer at our Halloween feast during family week in our final year. She never really forgave herself for not restraining him after the Slytherins had kidnapped him. He went out to find his wand as soon as he was well enough, into the Forbidden Forest, and never came back...nobody did..." Fred repeated this story unnecessarily. Though they'd heard it many times, they hung on his every word, like it was a final farewell to the building, which had become home for most of Harry's things and life to death story. Harry just stood in numb disbelief, loathing himself, repeating, 'no,' over and over again to unhearing ears.

Everything had been loaded into a carriage, and as Luna put the key in the lock for the last time, Harry heard her say, "Goodbye Harry, Goodbye everyone." He was left standing there alone in the dark. George had not stated whether or not anyone had ever found his wand. Just as he was wondering what he was going to do, where he was going to go, he heard the door being tried. Whoever it was, did not have a key. Harry's jaw dropped open, as Ginny came in, replacing the bobby pin into her still red hair. Harry did not know why she had done this strange thing. The museum building belonged to her brothers, and they would deny her nothing.

Ginny simply sat on the dusty floor, legs crossed, looking around in silence. She had not wanted to do this in front of people, and Harry felt like he was intruding, but could not will himself to leave. For the longest time, she just sat there as if deep in thought, then she seemed to make up her mind to say something, as if this may be the last time she would get the opportunity.

"Well, Harry, there really was no place other than Hogwarts that you called home, so when Luna suggested this museum, even though I knew you'd hate it, I couldn't help but agree with it. It was a place where I could visit you, where people talked about you, you know..." She now had tears streaming down her face. I know this place will always belong to Fred and George, but it won't be the same once all the joke stuff's in here, so this is the last chance I'll get to tell you this, if you can hear me. It didn't matter to me that we wouldn't have been able to dance at the Halloween Ball, I just wanted to be there. To have everyone know, I was with you. I may not have gotten our first dance, but at least I got our first kiss, even if you didn't know about it..." Those kisses had been real! She liked me!" Harry thought frantically. Was it too late? Had he really gotten his best friends killed?

"At least I know you're with Ron and Hermione, but I miss you all so much." Ginny seemed finished saying what she had needed to say, but Harry definitely wasn't done listening to her. He brushed at one of her tears, and felt wetness on his fingertip. Ginny put her hand to her cheek as though feeling for his touch...

Ron and Hermione stood by Harry's bedside listening to him mumble. He was begging Ginny not to cry, and they could not figure this out. The attack had taken a heavy toll on his recovery. Professor Dumbledore was suddenly summoned to the kitchens. He looked apprehensive about leaving Harry. Ron drew his wand. Probably unnecessary now, but he just felt better for having it ready in case.

Harry moaned again, putting his hand to his chest. He opened one eye, and scared Ron half to death by talking right away. Ron, who had been facing the door, jumped a foot when Harry said, "Just for old time's sake, make 'em eat slugs for me, this time it won't backfire on you."

"You're awake!" Ron was ecstatic. Hermione, worried as always went to get Madam Pomfrey. She bustled in, taking his pulse, listening to his heart, shaking her head. "Right under my nose!" She began to cry. Madam Pomfrey had always been the healer and comforter. "I'm so sorry, Harry. You could have been killed. That silly Pansy Parkinson and her burrowing head lice. It took me a whole hour to blast them all off her scalp. I'm afraid she'll be sporting a few bald spots for awhile. When I heard Harry'd been taken, I was mid zap," she began crying again. "Maybe it's time I retired." Now Harry knew why Madam Pomfrey had not seen the abduction.

"But you can't, Madam Pomfrey," Harry tried to reassure her that this was not her fault. "No one else would put up with me, besides, you're the best healer anywhere." this was high praise from a patient who hated hospitals and being fussed over. She seemed to pull herself back together, fluffing Harry's blankets as Mrs Weasley had done years ago, when he'd returned from the tri wizard tournament.

"Well," she said appraising him with scrutiny, "I won't bind your legs if you promise not try anything before you are cleared. Yes, I know," she stated , holding up her hands to what Harry was just about to retort, "I know you stood only out of necessity, and you were very fortunate that you did not further damage your legs from the incident." She shuddered. "But that does not mean that you are ready. Providing that you suffer no further injury, your walking therapy will begin in one week, on schedule. Now, how do those ribs feel?" she asked, seeing him keep placing his hand on his chest.

"Sore," he admitted.

'Bound to be," she told him with disgust in her voice for Harry's attackers." You had a footprint bruise on your chest where one of the brutes kicked you." She looked as though she were tearing up again. "Not to worry. Your ribs are mended again, and I er, tidied them up a bit for you. Okay, I tidied them up a lot. You're my patient now." Harry felt his chest. Even under his pyjamas, his skin felt smoother. Harry went to sit up. He didn't care if Hermione saw his chest, she'd almost seen him in his all together.

"No, I don't want you sitting up just yet, Potter," Madam Pomfrey advised. "Something positive had to come out of this terrible day. The potion that Professor Snape has been treating your chest with, came into full maturity, just today. He worked on the final concentration levels all day with one of his students. He applied it while you were still unconscious, as I was healing your ribcage." Even now, the thought of Snape touching him, made him queasy.

Ron held a mirror up for Harry as he wasn't allowed to sit up, and Hermione graciously turned around, but whirled right back around to face him when he exclaimed, "Look! It's almost gone!" Hermione and Ron didn't seem too surprised.

"We wouldn't leave while they treated you Harry. We guarded you while they were busy tending to you. Fred and George watched for the first eight hours." Harry tried to make out what time it was. It was six o'clock in the evening, the day after he'd been brought in...Sunday. He hadn't slept naturally all this time. He'd been sedated to keep him still and relaxed. Now it was time to begin normal conversation and stop pretending it hadn't happened.

"Did you see me?" he wanted to know. "When I was a ..."

"Yeah, Harry, we did." Ron sounded awestruck. "We didn't know if you'd remember anything in the shape you were in by the time we reached the school. Even Dumbledore couldn't keep you warm anywhere. You were shaking all over and turning blue. Madam Pomfrey said sometimes old fashioned remedies work the best, so she made a huge warming tub, and stuck you in, head and all, and you breathed underwater by something she did to you. You were in there for nearly four hours before your temperature came back up.

"Tub, but you guys said you'd been here the whole time." would this exposure never end? Hermione giggled. "You were wearing swim trunks the entire time!"He felt very relieved. Ron and Hermione didn't feel the time was right to talk about what had happened, because, usually, Harry never wanted to talk about anything that caused him pain, but they knew he would start asking questions.

"Was anyone caught? Did you find my wand? Asking this , jogged Harry's foggy memory of the dream. Hadn't someone said that he'd gone out looking for it on his own, and had gotten them all killed.? Harry looked at them so strangely, shaking his head, and looking sicker.

"Well, you know, two of them are dead. There were at least seven we think, from the school itself. One was taken by the Centaurs and is presumed dead. There's been no news of the other five yet...and no Harry, I'm sorry, we didn't find your wand. Seeing the look of deep disappointment on their friend's face, Hermione was quick to reassure, "Hagrid swears he'll go in after it for you. Fang can find anything. He may be lazy, but he's not stupid."

Ron took up answering Harry's many other questions. "Classes have been cancelled yesterday, today, and likely tomorrow. Everyone's been ordered to their houses, no mingling. Even meals are being sent to the common rooms. There's been no word on who's done this to you, except that the majority of them were likely Slytherins, and the one's who are dead, and the one who is missing, were from Slytherin, the problem is, there should still be four missing from Slytherin, but there's only three. We don't know who the others are. They snuck back in somehow."

"Who died?" Harry asked through clenched teeth, not knowing if he was ready to hear, but needing to all the same.

"Marcus Flinch's brother Andrew was killed, an one other Slytherin, who they haven't told us the name of yet, and Vincent Crabbe's missing." Harry thought he could hear a trace of satisfaction in Ron's voice as he had informed Harry of the casualties. It was not that Ron had wanted any of this to happen, but they had intended to kill his best friend, and if they were killed while committing this heinous act, then that was their own fault.

"I knew Crabbe was one of them. That buffoon, Goyle used his name, thinking I was already dead." The nervous glance between Hermione and Ron, told Harry that there was more, and they really didn't want to tell him.

"Well, and now don't get upset, Harry. You're supposed to stay calm and quiet, or we'll get kicked out, and you'll get medicated", Hermione warned him anxiously, looking at the door for the Matron to return at any moment. Harry held his breath.

"Goyle wasn't caught, and Malfoy never even left the grounds, supposedly," she said very fast, as though this would make it easier to hear.

"What!" Harry spat. "Oh come on, Malfoy's been out to get me ever since I set foot here. I heard a voice that was just like his...well, almost...Oh come on, he had to be there. One of them distinctly said that I'd pay for helping put his father in jail. Who else besides Malfoy could that have been?"

Crabbe, Goyle, Flint, Parkinson, Nott, Avery, and the list doesn't stop there. Some of the students even from the other houses, had relatives carted away after the Ministry was wiped clean of Voldemort's supporters.

"How does Dumbledore know that Malfoy wasn't involved. He was probably their leader!"

"Well..." Ron took over for Hermione, who looked very apprehensive at being asked this question. "He had an alibi, mate."

Again, Hermione and Ron could see Harry's tension grow, and all he could ask was, "what? Who?"

"Snape," Ron cringed, waiting for the explosion from his friend, but in a forced calm voice, Harry asked.

"How could a Death Eater vouch for one of those, a student, a student from his own house no less! For all they know, Snape could have been there, too!"

"On the contrary, Mr Potter," came Snape's dark laced voice. "Mr. Malfoy was in detention, working on a potion for me. He is, after all, a very talented potion maker."

"What Potion? Prove it!" Harry demanded. He yelled himself hoarse.

"I trust by now that you have felt the tightness in your chest lessen since your surgical scar is reduced from those, staples, did you call them? left a rather ugly scar. Mr Malfoy was assisting in the completion of the erasing potion. One mistake either way, and it would have done more than scour off the scar, it would have sliced right in. I should think you owe Mr Malfoy a debt of gratitude."

"You trusted Draco Malfoy with this? He might as well have been out in the forest with his friends. At least they were being honest about wanting me dead," Harry spat venomously.

"The words you want to be using right now, is thank you, Potter," Snape narrowed his eyes threateningly. "As to young Mr Malfoy's being out in the woods, why should you wish that? Surely you've heard the old adage, keep your friends close, your enemies closer? Mr. Malfoy did not participate in your abduction, he was with me the whole time."

"And where pray tell was that?" Harry demanded.

"With your friend, Mr. Golden, right up until the time he was summoned to come to your aid. For obvious reasons," he glanced at Harry as if he should know by now exactly what he was talking about, "I could not leave the school." Harry had trusted Tyler completely, but surely, Draco Malfoy would not have missed out on a good Harry bashing. He had to have at least helped plan the kidnapping, because his best friends, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, had most definitely been there.

"Well, it was your house that was involved in this," Harry accused.

"Yes, a few members of a very large house." Snape looked as though he was going to dismiss this whole thing as a boyish prank, than the word 'boyish' rang funny in his head. He now remembered distinctly hearing at least one female voice, complaining that she'd caught burrowing head lice from Pansy Parkinson. The voice had been similar to Cho's friend, Marietta Edgecombe, who was one of Pansy's best friends. He remembered that she had been itching through the hood. Now that he thought of it, they'd all seemed rather itchy. Harry, in his panic just assumed that the sweat from the hoods was causing this.

"But burrowing head lice are only contagious for twenty five minutes after the infestation curse is uttered, otherwise, they just remain with the original host," Ron told them, and Hermione looked extremely impressed that he'd come up with something educated and useful first.

"And classes were already out, meaning that whoever was the object of the curse, would have to have infected the other cases within the first twenty five minutes of the original curse. The burrowing head lice is not as adept at infecting person to person as normal lice. They can only spread from the originally cursed person, not from those who get it after that, even if you rubbed heads with them. That means that if Harry's right about Marietta's voice, she must have caught it from Pansy, sometime after you cursed her, Ron," Hermione surmised.

"Right! And now all we have to do, is try to remember who Pansy was with, when she was mouthing off about us being boyfriend and girlfriend," Ron mused.

"What!" Harry exclaimed yet again. They had not told him about their encounter with the gang of Slytherins on the night of the kidnapping.

"Oh," Ron said, going pink, "Pansy accused us of being a couple," he said shyly. She was getting really rude about, too," he went on, sparing Harry the personal details of what she had said about him being no good anymore for anything." So I just..." He waved his wand in the air in demonstration.

"You realize that they were probably on their way to Harry's room right than," Hermione said darkly, angry with herself. "We're still prefects. We could have detained them for unruly behaviour and saved Harry." Hermione went pale with regret.

"Don't, Hermione. How could you have known. Besides, they would have done it anyway, just later." Harry seemed so resigned, that even Ron felt guilty for not exercising his prefect status to tame the group, because they didn't want to make waves for their already difficult transition back into the main school.

"Yeah, but maybe when you were stronger, mate." Ron hung his head. He seemed resolved to at least make these people answer for what they had done, so he began figuring out what to do. "Well, if they were all on the way to do Harry in, they'd all have the burrowing head lice."

"But, while burrowing head lice are only contagious for the first twenty five minutes after coming into contact with the originally cursed person, the secondary cases take one hour to begin itching, The original curse bearer itches straight away, because the mature ones are sent directly into the scalp, while the secondary spread is only eggs, which take an hour to hatch and begin burrowing into the scalp."

Ron and Hermione could remember Crabbe, Goyle and Flint with Pansy that evening. They know guessed that Pansy had had to back out, being terribly infested, but the rest of the Slytherins, typically not educated about magical maladies, would not have known about the properties of contagion of the burrowing head lice. By the time they had all gotten out into the woods, they were all scratching furiously. Subconsciously, Ron, Hermione and Harry were all rather itchy just talking about it., and than remembering that he may have been kidnapped within the first twenty five minutes of Pansy's infestation, Harry panicked.

"Oh Gross! Check my head!" he demanded.

"Trust me, mate, if Pansy got to you within the first twenty five minutes of infestation, you'd be itching your head off, literally by now. You'd shave your own head to get rid of them and it wouldn't even help."

"Besides, remember, Pansy, who would have been the only person who could possibly have infected you, was with Madame Pomfrey at the time. Another reason no one noticed what had happened. You couldn't possibly have them," Hermione assured him, but Harry felt the need for a hot shower anyway, which he wouldn't get. Hermione said she would wash his hair for him in a basin. Somehow, as humiliating as this might be, Harry missed Ginny. It was somehow easier to accept care from her than from Ron and Hermione.

To placate the still paranoid Harry, Hermione lit the end of her wand, to check his hair for him. Ron mimicked a monkey eating insects from his fellow monkey's head behind Hermione's back, and Harry smiled for the first time since the ordeal began. "Nothing but your imagination," she assured him. "For a guy who's fought Voldemort, survived several life endangering threats, and flies on a Quidditch team, you're a wimp," she teased him lovingly.

"Thanks a lot!" Harry wondered how long Dumbledore would be gone. He needed to know who had done this to him. More importantly, now that he'd made up his mind not to run away, he wanted to know how this could be prevented from happening again.

"You know, all we have to do, is figure out who has burrowing head lice, and we'd probably catch the whole gang," Hermione said, sounding hopeful.

"Well, that shouldn't be hard," Harry advised, expecting them to leave to find someone who could enter the Slytherin common room with good authority. Madame Pomfrey was absolutely keen to help when they explained what had happened with Ron's curse. Ordinarily, this confession would have been met with severe punishment for fighting in the halls, but under the circumstances, the matron merely smiled, when Ron told her what he had done. She got together a kit, and her old fashioned medical bag, and left the hospital wing for the Slytherin dorms. Professor Lupin was guarding the hospital wing warily. Last night had been a full moon, and even with Snape's potion, he had hardly resisted it's calling when it had emerged from behind the clouds.

Now there was nothing to do but wait. "Madame Pomfrey wants you to drink this Harry, once every hour, and it's time now," Ron informed him, checking his watch, and pouring a liquid into a glass, which hissed as it was disbursed into the cup.

"Did Snape make it?" Harry asked defiantly.

"Now, now, Mr. Potter, this paranoia is quite unbecoming of you. This is a speciality of Madame Pomfrey's ." They all wondered if Snape was lurking around, because of his many appearances, all at the mention of his name.

Now Harry was furious. There was nothing that could hold him back. "Paranoia? Paranoia! I was dragged and beaten all the way to the Forbidden Forest! I was attacked by Voldemort himself, and worse, even than all this past summer, has been putting up with your threatening to poison me, fail me, give me detention, or worse yet, bore me to death! Control your house, or I swear, I will control them for you!" Harry was practically hissing, causing his words to sound a lot like he was speaking parseltongue. "Why don't you stop being so afraid of who their daddies are? It's so obvious you have no kids, you can't even deal with the one's you like!" Harry's voice shook with a wild rage. He had actually stood up, grabbed by Ron and Hermione as his knees buckled. If he'd had his wand at that moment of uncontrollable rage, it would have been Snape who was buckling. Harry grabbed the bed rail. "I may have to put up with being hunted by your master," he panted, pointing his finger at Snape, "but I don't have to put up with your two faced idiocy! One minute you claim to be saving my life, the next you're defending your house members who tried to kill me!"

Snape had merely let the boy scream himself hoarse, as Ron and Hermione cringed at what the potions master was listening to, face unreadable. They had been prepared to defend Harry by force if necessary, knowing that Snape had a very nasty temperament. "Back into bed, boy!" Snape raised his wand, and Harry was forced back onto his bed. "Another stunt like that and I shall have to have you placed in restraints." Snape seemed half pleased, half disturbed by Harry's angry outburst. "If you put as much energy into your recovery as you have into your delusions, you will be up and walking in no time." Hermione was trying not to hate Snape for what he'd just done to Harry. She figured maybe he'd been testing Harry to see what his energy level was after the whole ordeal he'd been through, though it was not a fitting way to have done it.

Harry crossed his arms and ignored Snape. He'd said all he had to say. Snape lost some of his triumphant expression at having successfully provoked Harry, however he lost most of his enthusiasm as well, when he was summoned to the kitchens. Now Harry's hopes that Dumbledore would return soon, were dashed.

Madame Pomfrey returned quickly to the hospital wing. When she informed them, that there were no cases of burrowing head lice found in the Slytherin common room, she said with some satisfaction, "I daresay I've made a few enemies, making them all line up for inspection." Ron and Hermione started to voice their disappointment that no cases of burrowing head lice had been found in Slytherin, when she smiled slyly at them. "I said no cases in the common room. I didn't tell you that I had been summoned to the kitchens on my way back. There, I diagnosed four cases, and before they could tell me not to tell anyone else who they were, I jotted down the names of those infected in my charts. There is the law of patient confidentiality, but I feel you deserve to know." She winked at Harry, whose eyes almost popped out. Madam Pomfrey had never bent the rules until this year at all, as far as any of them knew. "So," she continued, "I'll just go fill in my paperwork, and go get your medicine." She put down her charts on Harry's bedside table and left the room.

Hermione almost leapt onto it. "Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle!" but than who had died back in those woods if it wasn't Goyle?" Harry couldn't help but slump back onto his pillows in relief. He was not a murderer, at least not yet.


	23. Desperate Measures

A/N Just a quick thank you to all my reviewers. You are very kind people to take your valuable time to let me know what you think and I really appreciate it. Yes...I know a lot of people have said Harry is in the Hospital Wing for a long time, but for an injury like this, it's kind of normal...there is one more attack on his life and he'll be up and playing Quidditch in a couple more chapters...Promise!...

"No Malfoy?" Ron exclaimed just as Madam Pomfrey returned with Harry's medicine.

Answering Ron's question without really answering it, she said, "I've just seen Mr. Malfoy in his common room." And since she'd just told them that no cases of burrowing head lice had been found there, it was clear that he had not physically at least, participated in the abduction. This did not of course, in any way, clear Draco Malfoy as far as they were concerned. They would figure out what role he had played in this heinous crime some how.

"Now, Mr. Potter. It is time for your medicine," the Matron said kindly, noticing for the first time his flushed face.

"But I've only just finished taking it," Harry protested. He still had the taste and burning sensation in his mouth from the last dose that Hermione had been instructed to administer in her absence.

"I know, it seems like rather a lot, but you should know, without these medicines, I"m afraid those scoundrels would have succeeded in finishing you off. We have discovered now that you did not arrive back here to the hospital wing with a regular case of hypothermia. One of the idiots figured you were going to die before they could hand you over..." Did Madam Pomfrey know about the prophecy too, Harry wondered with alarm. "They performed a very dangerous Suspended Animation Charm on you. It's a very complicated procedure, as you may have read about, Miss Granger?" Hermione nodded. "Naturally it was beyond their limited skills, and the charm was incomplete. In effect, your metabolism was slowed, but not your whole body, and you would have frozen to death. We didn't want to alarm you, but that is why you have been asking for more blankets, and they hadn't done you much good. Without this medicine, you would have suffered permanent damage." Madam Pomfrey only told Harry about this disturbing news, because she feared he would reject the medicine in his typical, "I'm fine" way. She had not told him before this, because she, like Dumbledore, did not think he could bear any more worry, but at sixteen, he deserved to know his condition. Harry had almost forgotten about being cold with all the information he'd been receiving. Madame Pomfrey was furious that an underage untrained person had even attempted such a complicated charm.

The medicine, which for once had tasted pleasant, and good thing as he was required to drink a whole goblet full, warmed him all the way to his toes. Harry felt his muscles relax. He hadn't realized he'd been cringing with cold.

"Here Harry," Hermione said kindly pointing her wand at the fireplace, causing the flames to liven up and create more warmth.

"Thanks." Harry looked at his friends closely. They were tired too.

"You two should get some rest," he said bravely. " I'll be fine, they're not likely to try that again any time soon," but he didn't seem so sure. They could tell by the look on his face that he didn't really believe what he'd just said.

"Harry, we didn't know what was happening. We're sorry we weren't there to help you!" Ron said.

"It's not your fault. You can't stay here twenty-four seven. If I wasn't— like this, I could've fought them off myself. I know I'm not supposed to exert myself, but you guys have to help me get walking again. You heard Madame Pomfrey. My bones didn't re-break when I stood up so..."

"Yeah," said Ron "but I notice those socks of Dobby's are gone. We know Harry..." He pulled the tattered cuffs of what had been Harry's socks from the pocket of his dressing gown. There was a split second when Harry thought Ron was going to pull a Hermione and turn the socks over to Madame Pomfrey and there was a minute where Ron considered for Harry's safety to do just that. Their wary gaze was broken by a surprise from Hermione.

"Well, maybe Dobby can make you more socks Harry." They just stared at her open- mouthed.

"Hermione, are you mad? He's not well enough. There was a full more week of rest prescribed before walking practice even before all this new attack. He needs to rest!" Now Hermione was acting completely different than they'd ever thought she could be. Ron continued to argue with her. They argued back and forth over him, like each one was right.

Harry put his fingers to his lips and whistled at an ear splitting decibel. They both stopped arguing and looked at him. Harry hated arguing, but he had no choice. " Ron if you don't help me, at least don't hinder me— don't tell Madame Pomfrey— please! She'll restrain me." Ron's eyes looked glassy, and as he looked at Harry, he could almost hear Mrs. Weasley's voice. "You knew he was not strong enough now look what you've done," as he pictured Harry suffering more injury as a result of his irresponsible reluctance to deny his best friend's request. He remembered Dumbledore's speech to the school in his first year about it being hard to resist your enemies, but harder to resist your friends. It seemed like a thousand years ago.

Ron turned to the window to look anywhere but into his friends eyes, which pleaded for something he knew he shouldn't give. He'd never really denied Harry anything, but in pledging his very life to defend Harry, he wondered if he'd broken his pledge with his sudden decision. He took one last look out the window into the mist, ran his hand over his eyes and turned around. "I won't tell but it's not what I want!"

"I knew you'd come through!" Harry exclaimed happily, but he was quickly cut off when Ron raised his hand, stopping him from speaking further. Ron's voice faltered slightly. He was worn out with worry, the price of having Harry Potter for a best friend. He laid down rules.

" I say when you've had enough. You don't argue. You tell the truth when you hurt, you don't hide it. Once a day, that's it, for one hour. We practice right before you get your medicine, that way if you're sore, the medicine would fix you up. If we suspect damage, we stop, no ifs ands or butts. If you really get hurt doing this, we come clean to Madame Pomfrey, so she can fix you up." The list went on and on. "Take it or leave it," he finished firmly.

"Take it , and thanks!" Harry said seriously as Ron stood with his arms folded shaking his head, looking out the window once more.

"Yeah Ron, thanks, we couldn't do this without you," Hermione piped in.

"For the record, mad at me or not Harry, I will stop this if it doesn't seem to be agreeing with you."

"Ron, what's up? Worrying is Hermione's job," Harry reminded him. The sudden change in Ron's behaviour was unnerving. He'd usually supported every crazy and even dangerous plan they'd made. Without answering, Ron asked Hermione to step out into the hall. She looked Reluctant. Harry didn't take kindly to being left out. She looked at Harry with an "I'm sorry shrug" and reluctantly left with Ron.

"Hermione," Ron said, putting his hands on her shoulders. She was significantly shorter and she had to look up at him to see his face. "Hermione, you didn't look at the chart under that name list Madame Pomfrey let us see, did you?"

"No... why?" she asked, becoming alarmed

"Hermione, it wasn't a stasis charm they used on Harry to freeze him. They just told us that. It was a poison , but Madame Pomfrey doesn't know what was in it. That medicine she's giving him every night, it's only enough to keep him alive for awhile, while they search for an antidote." Ron's eyes were glossy again. This had been the reason for his strange change in Ron. Madame Pomfrey had lied to them to protect Harry and them from the truth. Harry was in mortal peril again. This all seemed so unreal and unfair, but when one is hunted by the Darkest Lord who ever lived, as his main target to destroy, one will suffer until the prophecy is fulfilled one way or the other.

"That's why Madam Pomfrey was crying. She's usually a lot more professional than that." Hermione was now crying too.

"We promised him we wouldn't keep anything from him anymore."

"I can't tell him, Hermione. How much more does he have to take? I say we just let him take the walking lessons and just pretend everything's fine for now. They'll find and antidote, I'm sure of it." Ron took a deep breath, and told Hermione, who was trying to get the red out of her eyes, just to pretend that they had been discussing more rules. They were not good actors, and the looks on their faces, gave them away. Hermione was biting her lower lip and Ron's cheeks were flushed.

"Okay, what's going on?" Harry demanded. He half believed Ron that he was worried about further harming him. He didn't want to jeopardize the promise of help they'd finally agreed to give him, so he let it go, to their immense relief. They would have time to find a way to tell him the truth. All they could do was sit by his bedside for now. Sleep Occlumency lessons had been cancelled to allow Harry to rest from his ordeal. Indeed, for days before the kidnapping no one had any telephotus dreams at all. Dumbledore felt that Voldemort, at least for now, must be working on a new plan of attack. This did not make them feel any better, nor was it meant to, but it seemed the most plausible reason for the lack of dreams. Harry had been given hope that should the dreams start again, he could wear a special monitor, which would detect a rise in heart rate, indicating panic, and he would be woken up by an alarm, saving him and his friends from the summons. A simple Muggle idea for a huge Wizarding problem.

Harry noticed that Ron was depressed, even when Madam Pomfrey had told them of the cancellation of the Sleep Occlumency lessons. Harry thought it was great news, no more afternoon naps, like a Kindergarten class, no more Snape, at least he hoped so. He felt hopeful, even happy. He knew once he had his wand back, he would be more equipped to face danger. He was looking forward to revenge, but the feeling did not please him. Most of all, he was looking forward to moving out of the Hospital Wing, and into the Griffindor tower, even if it did mean wearing a monitor. Dumbledore had assured him that the other students would be told that the monitor was for measuring his pulse rate. Harry would not want them to know what it was really for. Ron didn't know why Dumbledore was giving Harry false hope, when he may not even survive, but when he thought of it, he felt that Dumbledore was doing the right thing to encourage Harry to look toward the future. As far as Harry knew, he had to gain enough strength to learn how to walk again, and he would be out of the Hospital Wing by mid October.

"Come on, Ron, lighten up, that means we can get out of here soon. You'll be safe from the dreams, and able to leave even before me..." Harry sounded regretful about this, but he had felt very guilty about Ron and Hermione having to have their lessons in the Hospital Wing, when technically, there was nothing wrong with them.

"Yeah, that's great." Ron tried to sound cheerful, but was horribly unsuccessful.

"You two were really worried about me, weren't you?"

"Yeah, we were." Hermione almost said 'are.' Again Harry knew something was wrong, but was afraid to ask, hoping it would go away, because he needed to believe that things had finally turned around. Ron knew that Ginny might end up hating him for not telling her of Harry's true condition. She needed to study for her O.W.L.S. He didn't know how close the two of them had become, or he may have considered telling her. Then there was the risk that she may tell Harry, feeling, and probably morally right, that Harry had the right to know about his condition. Ginny had made her visits brief, having been told not to 'pester' Harry. Truth was, Harry could have really used her company, and the calming effect her touch had on his whole being.

The dreamy look he'd gotten in his eyes about Ginny, was mistaken for tiredness. "Right then, mate, if you want to start tomorrow, you need to get some rest," Ron advised.

"Ron..." Harry was amused that Ron was doing all the talking. "You sound like my..." he trailed off. He'd been almost about to say 'dad,' but then he'd never remembered his own father. "You know..."

"Yeah, I kind of do...Sorry Harry, I guess I'm just really wiped out myself," Ron lied. "Just over compensating, I guess." Hermione had been staring at him the whole time, and Harry found it very unnerving.

"Okay, okay, I'll rest, I promise!" Harry told them, figuring that would get them off his back. Hermione hugged him so tightly, and held him for a very long time, until Ron cleared his throat. He was worried that Hermione was giving them away with the long embrace. It was a little too emotional for a normal 'see you later' hug. She hugged Ron before leaving, rather longer than usual too.

"Let me know if there's any...any trouble," she told Ron, glancing at Harry once more.

'You two are spending way too much time together. You're starting to act just like her," Harry joked. "All touchy feely." Ron would usually have had a witty retort, but he just smiled feebly at Harry.

"Yeah, guess I'm needing some real male bonding. Soon as we get back onto that Quidditch pitch, I'll get back to my manly self." Ron grew sadder, realizing that he and Harry had never had a really good game of Quidditch together under the domain of Deloris Umbridge last year. The Quidditch games had been cut back after Ron had been made Keeper, and Fred, George and Harry had been given lifetime bans from the game. Ginny had taken Harry's place as Seeker, but she assured him that as soon as he was well, she would be ready to give his position back to him to have more time to study for her O.W.L.S. She had promised Fred and George that she would follow in their footsteps, but would still endeavour to get good grades, without being made a prefect or anything like that. Harry admired her willingness to please in her own independent way. She had great balance. Harry didn't like the look on Ron's face as he had talked about Quidditch, though he had tried to sound cheerful. Harry worried that maybe Ron felt he would never be able to play competitive Quidditch with all of his injuries. If he knew Ron's real worry, this would never have come to his mind as more than a triviality.

Ron continued to try to come out of his shock of seeing Harry's medical record's dire entry. He decided some more positive conversation was best for Harry right now.

"Once we're back on the team together, they'll never beat us, Harry. Not Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin. With three Weasley's and one honorary Weasley on the team, no chance at all. They'll never know what hit them."

"Speaking of honorary Weasley," Harry remembered. "That's really cool, your family history. All these years you never told me, why?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, Harry, I guess I always appreciated how modest you were about what you had, and I always reminded of what you didn't have when I'd get home to the burrow. They all thought I'd already told you, but one day earlier on when we'd just met, I remembered something you'd said after you'd seen the Mirror of Erised. That not only did you not remember your own parents, but that you had no family history, other than what came from textbooks about the worst event of their life. You said you'd give anything to know just some of it. I didn't want to go on about my family history to you because I...well I thought you'd feel bad... one sided conversation," Ron explained sadly.

"No, Ron. Your family's been the closest thing to a family I've ever had, especially since Sirius is gone...At least I learned some stuff about my family from him before..." Harry reached up to touch the amulet which he never took off his neck. "That coin your family gave me means more to me than all the gold galleons at Gringotts put together," Harry told him, opening up his bedside table drawer to look at the coin. "Wait a minute!...my coin...Ron, It's gone!" Those scum took my wand and my coin! They will pay for this!" Ron tried to calm Harry, but he was inconsolable. Ron stood up to go down to the kitchens to tell Dumbledore about the newly discovered theft, when Dumbledore nearly collided with him in the doorway.

"I believe this is yours, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore, tossing Harry's wand to him. Harry looked it over as if it was alive and may have been hurt. We have examined it, and it has not been tampered with. Harry felt a thousand times better having his wand back in his own possession. "And I've brought you some company," Dumbledore informed him, whistling to Max to come in.

"Max! I haven't seen you for two days!"

"Your dog here, has been helping Hagrid and Fang search the Forbidden Forest for our missing students. No doubt by now, you have heard who is suspected as having been involved in the crimes against you? It seems Rob Flint and Gregory Goyle from Slytherin House were caught trying to make their way down into the kitchens with a load of fresh vegetables,"

the Headmaster informed them, looking very pleased. "They received a nasty shock when they were stupified by a group of house-elves from the kitchen. I must remember to send my thanks to them, and a box of lemon drops...they seem to have developed quite a taste for sweets since I started to leave some out for them when they come to tidy my quarters."

"Ironic isn't it, Flint and Goyle looking for vegetables?" Ron said sarcastically to Harry.

Hagrid entered the Hospital Wing with two very dirty, very disgruntled large boys. Gregory Goyle and Rob Flint. He was followed by Professor McGonagall, who had her wand trained on Cho Chang's friend, Marietta Edgecombe. She had obviously been a part of the attack, and with a sinking feeling, Harry and Ron knew that Slytherin wasn't the only house involved, now Ravenclaw was implicated too. Marietta glared at them and Hermione who had come back at the sound of all the excitement. Marietta had joined the DA last year, and had betrayed the secrecy of these meetings, ending up with the word 'sneak' emblazoned on her forehead for her indiscretion, something she would never forgive Hermione for, for it had been she who had devised the secrecy protection charm.

"But Marietta wasn't missing. She was present for bed check that night," Hermione remembered sounding puzzled about this new development. Harry had been angry with Cho Chang for bringing Marietta to the secret DA meeting, after it had been learned that this friend of hers had been the one to betray them to Umbridge. Harry had always liked Cho before this and had wanted very much to date her, if she could ever stop crying long enough about Cedric. Harry did not blame her for this, he just didn't know how to comfort her without sounding callous. Than there was the fact that Harry always felt that Cho had blamed him somehow for Cedric's death, and maybe wished that he had died instead. Also, this being the greatest challenge to Cho and Harry's relationship, or lack thereof, was the fact that Cho Chang was extremely jealous of Hermione and Harry's friendship, and Harry would never give that up for anything in the world. As of late, there were rumours that Cho was also often heard complaining loudly about Ginny in a jealous tone as well, as though she and Harry had ever been an item.

"You're right, o'course, Hermione," said Hagrid, "but Marietta was just caught trying to admit these accomplices of 'ers,"

"Alleged accomplices," Dumbledore reminded gently. Harry fought the urge to say exactly what was on his mind. They were definitely among the attackers. He had heard them, and there had definitely been female voices, complaining about having caught burrowing head lice from Pansy Parkinson.

"We'll just take that as evidence, Miss Edgecombe," Professor McGonagall said coldly, causing a large leather bound volume of "Magical Parasites And How To Rid Your Family Of Them," that she had been clutching tightly. A chapter on natural remedies, which could be accomplished by mixing ingredients typically found in the kitchen, such as mayonnaise, cooking oils and the like, had been marked by a book mark. Marietta had been trying to cure herself of the advanced case of burrowing head lice so as to avoid prosecution for the crime. Madam Pomfrey now regretted not having checked the entire school.

Hagrid sat Flint and Goyle roughly on a bed and Professor McGonagall was none to gentle in depositing Marietta onto a chair beside them. They stood over the prisoners. Ron crept to the door and whatever he saw, made him gasp. He called to Hermione. Harry heard Hermione exclaim, "Oh!" with much dismay. On a cot, not far from the prisoners, was Cho Chang. They could not keep this from Harry, not with everything else they were neglecting to tell him.

"Harry...Cho's out there...among them. We didn't see when they brought her in." Harry turned his head, and sure enough, that had been Cho's crying that he'd been hearing. She was trying to defend herself.

"I didn't know they were going to attack Harry. I like Harry, I'd never hurt him for the world," Cho sobbed. "Two days ago, I was walking down the hall, to go ask Neville Longbottom about Harry. When I was finished talking to Neville, I was on my way to the Hospital Wing to see him, if he'd let me in...but they..." Ron saw Cho point to Goyle and Flint, "and a bunch of other Slytherins made fun of me. They said Harry Potter would never go out with me, and that he only had eyes for that Hermione Granger or Ginny Weasley," she continued to sob out every syllable and there was a note of derision in her voice when she said Hermione and Ginny's names.

For someone who'd never really had a real date in his life, Harry was sure being accused of having a lot of girlfriends, he thought angrily to himself. He thought if he ever made it out of this mess, to have a normal life, he'd wait a few years to date again...maybe. That thought lasted half a minute. "I'll just choose better than Cho Chang," he thought to himself, willing himself not to think of Ginny. He didn't want to be hurt anymore, and he didn't want to get his hopes up that Ginny's attention to him was anything but friendly.

As much as Hermione hated to admit it, Cho may have been innocent. After all, the Slytherin's gang had accosted them in the hall as well. One confirmation from Neville and she would have a valid alibi for her trial. Hermione cringed, watching Cho scratch her head. This would mean that if Cho was telling the truth, she would have met up with the Slytherins after Ron had cursed Pansy Parkinson with burrowing head lice.

"Miss Chang, why didn't you come to see me two days ago?" Madam Pomfrey scolded, going through the girl's raven black hair with her wand.

"I only realized what I had when Marietta said she was going to the kitchens for an antidote. We hadn't spoken at all since I saw her meet up with the same group of Slytherins who were teasing me in the hall. She was my friend. I hurried away, because they started hurling curses at me. They hit me with a shiner spell..." Cho turned her face toward Dumbledore, and Ron could see that she had a black eye. It was swollen, black and purple all around it, but when Ron related what he'd just seen to Harry, Harry remembered the brawling his attackers had been ensued in. She could have gotten that black eye from the fighting. Now Harry wasn't sure how many attackers there had been. He remembered the noise level swelling once they were outside. Perhaps more people joined the attack then.

Somehow, even if Neville confirmed that he'd seen Cho near the Gryffindor Tower, Harry now knew that he must have miscounted the number of kidnappers, he'd been very jarred around by then. Maybe Cho Chang had just been sent to question Neville to find out how much of a fight Harry would be able to put up against the kidnappers. He imagined a whole conspiracy against him now. Maybe Cho was the distraction, to case the Hospital Wing to ensure they weren't caught stealing Harry. It honestly didn't matter what Cho said. He'd had a wild crush on her before, but now, the very sound of her voice made him angry. He realized now, that innocent or not, their past had been unpleasant and would not improve.

Madam Pomfrey was significantly more gentle with Cho Chang in blasting off the burrowing head lice. She gave her a cold compress which made a strange sucking sound when applied to her eye. As for Goyle and Flint, she was almost rough with them. Ron could see tufts of hair flying through the air. As for Cho's supposed ex friend, Madam Pomfrey was hardly any gentler with her than she had been with Flint and Goyle. This girl was having a hard go it, but it was after all, her own fault. Ron stifled a gasp when Marietta's long locks were shorn off to reveal that she still bore the word 'sneak' on her forehead, a souvenir from Hermione who had cursed the list of DA members, that if any members gave away their secret defence club, they would be branded 'sneak'. It was a very effective curse, apparently.

"Can I go back to my common room?" Cho asked, still sobbing.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Chang," Professor Dumbledore answered. You are considered suspect as you still had the lice, and were associated with the accused. Cho Chang sobbed even harder, as Marietta looked on her in deep disgust. Now Ron knew who she reminded him of, the cold portraits of Bellatrix Lestrange. This girl seemed to be beyond sneaky. Hearing Cho Chang cry was nothing new to Harry, and though a minute before he didn't want to hear her name ever again, he now felt slightly sorry for her. Now he knew how hard jurors had it trying to determine someone's guilt or innocence, based on little evidence and high emotions.

"The four of you," Dumbledore advised, "Will be under house arrest here at the castle." He conjured four separate cubicles that were securely locked with a invisible force field of some kind. The only private part of each cubicle was a very small area in one corner, which the onlookers figured must have been the loo with a curtain around it, and there was a drawstring curtain around each bed.

"Your heads of houses, will be contacting your parents in the morning. Do any of you have anything you would like to say before I put you in a silent perimeter?" No one said anything, except Cho Chang.

"Headmaster, sir, I didn't do anything. I just wanted to see how poor Harry was doing, and I never did find out." Not knowing that Harry was hanging on every word that was being said, Dumbledore was about to tell Cho the awful truth. Ron faked a violent cough to cover up, so that Harry would not hear what was coming.

"Since I have already questioned these three pupils and also Miss Parkinson, who is being held in isolation, regarding the condition Harry was brought back to school in, I will insist that you answer my question, before I answer yours, Dumbledore ordered, sounding rattled for the first time any of the listeners had ever heard. "Do you have any knowledge of a potion ingredient list, for any or all potions that were used on Mr. Potter during the attack?"

"N...no, really I had nothing to do with it. Why he's alright isn't he?" Cho sniffled. Dumbledore seemed satisfied with her answer. Ron had stopped coughing too soon. Harry heard the last of Dumbledore's answer to Cho's enquiry about his condition.

"At this point, we do not know. We need to know what went into that potion used in the attack, it is vital" Since Harry had not heard the question preceding this answer, he wasn't sure what it meant, but he knew at least, that it pertained to him.

"I really don't know, I'd do anything for him," she sobbed.

"Goodnight, Miss Chang. Your parents will be notified tomorrow.

"But..." she trailed off as if a plug had been placed in her mouth, as the silencing field was placed around her cubicle before she had finished speaking.

"What potion, Ron?" Harry demanded, his eyes piercing into Ron's. Hermione, thinking quick, lied to Harry. They want the ingredient list the kidnappers gave you during the attack, so they can trace some stolen ingredients back to those involved." She and Ron heaved sighs of relief when Harry bought this story. Especially after having to listen to the fact that Cho, a girl he'd liked, had been implicated in the attack, they knew he'd heard enough., and they were intent on protecting him.

Harry was tired and cold again. Hermione warmed his blankets with her wand and went to get Madam Pomfrey. "He's cold again...already," she told the matron. Madam Pomfrey checked her time piece and than Harry's chart.

"It's just as I feared," she sighed. The medicine just isn't going to remain effective for as long as I'd hoped. Each dose will last a shorter time until...We have got to find out what was in that potion. Madam Pomfrey straightened her shoulders and entered Harry's room with a smile. "Miss Granger tells me you're cold again. Just drink some more of this potion and you'll feel right as rain." Harry held the cup of warm liquid in both hands, enjoying the relief on his numb fingers.

"It's freezing in here." he chattered.

"Yes, oh yes it is. I think I'll put my robe on," Hermione agreed, although she wasn't the least bit cold. Ron also agreed that it was both cold and damp this evening. When he felt warmer, Harry just couldn't stay awake any longer. He said goodnight to Hagrid, who had just described at Harry's request to tell him where he'd found his wand, which was the spot where he'd been thrown to the ground by the kidnappers. He guessed that Goyle had had to abandon it before returning to the school. Max and Fang had been given an article of Harry's clothing for scent and had eventually sniffed out the wand based on that scent.

Once again, Max jumped up onto Harry's bed. His large furry head warmed Harry's legs as he fell asleep, glad for the extra company. After his eyes had been closed for some time, Ron and Hermione slipped out with Madam Pomfrey. "Madam Pomfrey, he's getting worse isn't he," Hermione asked tearfully, although she already knew the answer.

"I'm afraid so, Miss Granger."

Ron suddenly remembered that he had not seen Snape since the capture of the students from Ravenclaw and his own house. He was after all, the Potion's Master, and Ron grew angry wondering what he was doing and where he was, and he wondered if Snape had actually in fact made the potion which was now killing Harry. Than again, hadn't Snape mentioned that Draco Malfoy had become an accomplished potions maker as well? This was the tie in they had been looking for to implicate Draco, but it was not sufficient, given Snape's vouching for his whereabouts at the time of the kidnapping. "Can't Professor Snape figure out what was in the potion, to deal with this?"

"Professor Snape hasn't slept for two days, trying to discover something that will cure Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey informed them sadly. Why couldn't someone else, anyone else, have been potion's master? Why the one person who was notorious for making threats to poison Harry all the time? His confidence at an all time low, Ron decided to do something, rather than just sit and watch his best friend die.

"Hermione, I've just had a thought. I think it's time we had an emergency meeting of the DA. We need to come up with something to save Harry. Are you with me?"

"Of course." For a plan that had just formed in their head, Hermione seemed keen to participate. Right away she made plans to separate and contact as many members of the DA as possible and meet in the room of requirement. At this hour, the only ones who would be out of their common rooms, would be the older ones in study hall, so this was their first stop. There, they enlisted a member of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to deliver a message. Before the messages were taken to intended receivers, Ron and Hermione were barraged with questions. The school wide lock down had only been lifted for a few hours, so people had questions about that, as well as Harry's condition, as well as the many rumours that were flying about. As soon as they had freed themselves, they found Neville Longbottom and sent him to Gryffindor Tower, than went to wait in the room of requirement.

The message takers had looked very puzzled about what they'd been told to tell certain members of their houses, which was to 'contact your DA right away. They had assumed DA, meaning father. Hermione knew that the members of the DA would know what they meant. Ginny, who was studying for her O.W.L.S came with them to the room of requirement, looking very upset. She was torn between running to Harry's side, and going to the emergency meeting to help. Ron assured her that Harry was asleep, and it would be best for him to stay that way.

One by one, members began to arrive, Neville, of course, than Fred and George. Seamus Finniagan and Dean Thomas arrived shortly after, anxious to hear something about Harry, other than that he was still alive and still in the Hospital Wing. Soon, the members of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw arrived, and now the fact that two members of the DA had actually been accused of kidnapping the very teacher of this club, their friend and fellow student, made everyone feel very uncomfortable, especially Ravenclaw members, who glanced around nervously.

For a minute, Ron, who had called this meeting in the first place, suddenly had his doubts about asking these people for help. As he decided that you have to trust some people some time, and just hope there were no more traitors among them, the rest of them made their way in and sat on the floor, looking expectantly at him. He nervously drummed his fingers on a podium that had appeared, apparently for no other reason than to hold him up. Public speaking was not his strong suit, and it showed.

Ron and Hermione had twenty minutes to discuss what they wished to accomplish with this meeting. They started by answering questions as truthfully as they could. They felt it best to dispel the rumours and get to the business at hand. They took turns filling in the DA in on everything they knew up to this point, including Harry's current condition, which was becoming graver by the minute.

Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown, who Hermione had doubted their usefulness to DA for some time, seemed to have grown up since last year. Even they listened intently to the fact that the ingredient list or actual potion vial must be found to save Harry's life. They needed an antidote.

They had hoped that there would be suggestions from the floor to help them. "Why don't we do some kidnapping of our own?" Fred mused. "Professor Dumbledore and the other teachers might not be able to torture the kidnappers into spilling, but I'm not above it."

"Here here!" supported George, seconding the motion.

"Well, hopefully we won't have to resort to torturing them," Hermione cringed. "But it may be worth getting them alone for awhile."

"We just found out, don't ask us how." Fred held up his hand as he continued, "that Vincent Crabbe has been caught red handed and is being held in his head of house rooms. "Apparently Snape's brewing some veratiserum that will be used on him when it's ready, but it takes awhile. They actually think that he, Crabbe might have been the ring leader...that stupid git! I doubt it!"

"I don't think we've got time to wait for veratiserum," Ron told them seriously.

"Well that's it, then isn't it? We need to break into Snape's office," Hermione proposed, shocking them all with her statement and the look of fierce determination on her face.

"Yeah, but it'll be risky," Neville added, "but I'm ready."

There was very little, if any planning in this venture. The DA more closely resembled an angry mob. It was late, well past curfew. As they passed through the corridors leading to the dungeons, they were uninterrupted. As they passed their potion's classroom, everyone drew their wands instinctively. Snape's office had been broken into on several occasions, but now it seemed that not only magical protections had been placed on it, but practical locks as well, similar to the ones the twins had seen on the vaults deep in the caverns at Gringotts's wizarding bank.

Even Fred and George, who were gifted with locks, could not unlock it. Apparently, no silencing charm had been placed around Snape's office, because the unmistakable surly voice of Vincent Crabbe, echoed out as if he were in a closed chamber. Just the sound of his voice, incensed Ron. Hermione tried to calm him as he began taking runs, banging his shoulder against the door, screaming his head off in frustration. Every act of brutality perpetrated by Crabbe and his cronies for the past five years, whether aimed at Ron or his friends or helpless first years who were unfortunate enough to meet up with them in the hallways out of earshot of a teacher, came to the forefront of his mind. Ron was wild with rage as he screamed his demands through the closed doors.

The faceless voice on the other side of the door mocked him. "You can't get to me in here Weasel. I'm in protected custody. I've bargained for my freedom and a lesser sentence." Crabbe had to be the dumbest person in the world for practically admitting that he'd given information about his friends to the Headmaster. "I'm not even being expelled, and besides, I don't know nothin' about no Stasis Potion."

Ron's forced calm to listen to this brainless git, now came to a volcanic eruption. "No one said it was a Stasis Potion, so how would you know that!" he exploded. To his greatest annoyance, Crabbe began to hum to the tune of 'Weasley is Our King.'

Ron's anger rarely turned physical, but the thought of Harry dying as this smug Slytherin sat in protective custody, caused him to yell in frustration, hitting the wall with his fist. It went without saying that this was a stupid thing to do, as his hand swelled immediately to match his bruised shoulder from running into the door. As a bit of plaster crumbled away to reveal a pipe, Hermione thought of the basilisk that had used the plumbing system to get around the school. She took Ron aside and said to him quite seriously, "Ron, your Animagus form is a killdeer. You could use the ventilation system to get to Snape's office and open the door for us on the other side.

"Hermione, I don't know how to transform, you know that." His eyes bulged with his desperation.

"I hate to say this, but we've got to scare Harry while he's still asleep, and hope that he'll summon us and that we can somehow figure out a way to really transform instead of just in a dream and come down here to get into Snape's office," Hermione told him. It was all she could think of. The plans had become so complicated Ron got a headache. "The Hogwart's vents are big enough for the both of us, and you'd need me to lead the way because as an owl, I can see in the dark..." To say that the plan was a long shot, would have been a huge understatement, but they now called Fred and George for a side meeting.

"Fred, George, do you think you could nik some sleeping potion in case Harry's awake, and than just make sure he's just under enough that he can still hear you, and than make him think he's in danger?" This question, which would have shocked and stunned most people, was answered in the affirmative immediately.

"What about Tyler?" Ron asked.

"Well, we're hoping that Harry will summon us to transform before he's completely asleep, and maybe, just maybe we'll transform for real like Harry did. Tyler will be the circuit between us. He could explain everything to Harry, and go back with him and tell him everything is really fine once Fred and George have succeeded in scaring him." They were hoping that if they summoned Harry instead of the other way around, technically, things would work in reverse, and maybe this time it would be they who could really transform like Harry had done in the woods.

The twins left immediately for the hospital wing, feeling guilty for what they were about to do. When they peaked into Harry's room, they were more than dismayed by the sight that greeted their eyes. Harry was lying under a pile of blankets. Three fireplaces had been magically transferred to his room. Madam Pomfrey sat by his bedside as he shivered pitifully, unable to do a single thing for him.

"This won't work!" Fred whispered anxiously, as Snape came up behind them.

"Out of the way!" he growled, shoving between them. Tyler entered after Snape and took Harry's hand.

Tyler was just a boy and his age showed when he shook his head, saying sadly, "cats don't like to be cold." Tyler closed his eyes and began speaking inaudibly to Harry. The room was stifling, but soon, Tyler began to tremble too. The twins could see plainly that Harry would be in no condition to be scared artificially even if he were left alone for it to take place. They felt very low as they made their way back down to the dungeons.

Ron grew very impatient just waiting for something to happen. Somehow, they were waiting to hear Harry's call, even before the twins would arrive with the stolen sleeping potion. Fred and George ran down the hall with the bad news. Ron's frustration level was at an all time high when who should appear at their heels, but Professor Snape, looking furious. He had followed the twins back down to his dungeon office.

"What is the meaning of this? You are out of bounds after hours. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, you are no doubt in charge of this illegal activity? They knew now that they would not succeed, when suddenly, Fred and George yelled, "Run!" as they rounded on Snape, drawing their wands. Hermione and Ron took off down the corridor as every other member of the DA, turned to face Snape, wands at the ready. Snape shot two stupefying spells after Ron and Hermione through the crowd. Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff, and Zachariah Smith went down as Snape's mouth opened wide in surprise. There was a flap of wings and everyone expected to see mail owls. They stared in silent surprise as a small bird, led by a large tawny owl, took flight down the corridor. Sensing a premeditated plan, Snape menacingly ordered everyone out of his way, as he tried to make his way to his office door. He never thought he'd see the day when another group of students would learn to become Animagi together ever again, since the Marauders had taken years to master it, and not especially under these unusual circumstances. They were different, not able to transform at leisure like learned Animagi, but out of necessity only it seemed.

The DA, thoroughly shocked by what they had just seen, though they weren't sure exactly what that had been, now bravely moved shoulder to shoulder to block Snape's way. "I will deal with you later, children," he sneered, turning to go the other way, but finding his way blocked still. Snape was so used to having his threats make the students quake, that he was becoming quite unnerved by their stance. He turned back to Fred and George, who were the only ones on the other side, between he and his freedom.

"I will ask you all once only. Return to your dormitories and you may avoid expulsion, stay and I will be justified to use force." At this point it didn't seem to matter to Snape what they chose, force would be just fine with him.

Neville finally found his voice. He had fought face to face with Death Eaters already. Facing his unusually cruel Potion's Master, seemed a natural progression, if not a backwards one. "I'm afraid we can't let you do that, sir." Neville was perfectly polite, something which Snape had never been with him.

"Indeed?" Snape seemed amused. He raised his wand, ready to strike, when, before he could even speak, Neville had Snape's wand in his own hand. Neville's look of triumph, quickly turned to one of fear, when Snape still managed curses without his wand. All of the torches in the corridor flickered and went out, plunging the dungeons into total darkness. The DA cast every non lethal curse at Snape, either missing him entirely or merely not doing him any harm. The DA members were shocked when they heard a loud thump as someone hit the ground. In the lit wand tips, they could see Fred and George had physically tackled Snape as a last resort as he tried to make his way past them. The twins were significantly larger than Snape, who stood no chance as every member of the DA held down his limbs and clamped his mouth shut to avoid further curses if possible.

The twins, Ginny and Neville, all managed Stunning Spells, simultaneously cast. They had an immediate effect on the seemingly impervious Potion's Master. Snape's struggling had ceased as he lay staring blankly up to the ceiling in the dim light of the few portable fires and lit wand tips.

No one in the DA had been informed of the Animagi phenomenon. There were murmers of great interest in future DA meetings, if somehow they managed to avoid prosecution for this great assault. It seemed the popular belief among them now, was that Harry had taught them to transform and that he would maybe teach them too. Even being in the same club as someone who could transform was prestigious. The sight of two Animagi at once was worth the risk of expulsion that they now all faced.

The astounded DA members ceased talking as the door leading to Snape's office swung open from inside. Ron and Hermione stood in human form, wands out, pointed straight at Crabbe's heart. For all the bragging he'd done, Crabbe seemed in no fit shape for the taunts he'd been hurtling at them through the closed door. Indeed, there wasn't a person present who didn't wonder how he'd even managed to speak in the first place.

Vincent Crabbe was shackled, hanging upside down. His face was more beat red than usual. His shirt was fallen down to reveal a horribly whipped back. Fresh wounds showed vividly against the pale skin of his face, accentuated by his swollen and bloody lips. For a moment, Hermione was moved to render assistance before Ron reminded her, "Hermione, he's a Death Eater's son. He tried to kill Harry. His father was caught at the Ministry of Magic last year. He played a part in the reason Harry's alone again!" Ron had forced himself not to mention Sirius in front of the other DA members. "He's getting what he deserves!" Hermione soon not only agreed, but moved to add to Crabbe's discomfort. Her wand trained directly between Crabbe's eyes, she ordered the potions ingredients list. Crabbe made a horrible sucking sound as he gathered spit to hurl at her.

"Oh no you don't!" Ginny suddenly yelled as she let her Bat Bogey Curse loose on Crabbe. Large slimy amounts of mucus overtook Crabe's large face and smacked fiercely like wings on his cheeks. Crabbe choked on the spit ball he'd been about to let fly.

There seemed to be a lot of pent up anger to dish out from the DA members. Their friend and teacher had nearly been killed and in fact lay near death as they worked to find an antidote. Snape must have had one fortified constitution, because even after four Stunning Spells, he managed to hex Zachariah Smith yet again. Fred and George were still trying desperately to keep Snape down. Somehow he was breaking their grip.

"Ron, Hermione, Hurry!" Fred struggled out the words as he tried desperately to hold onto their Potion's Master Suddenly there was nothing to hold on to. The twins were left lying on the ground empty-handed as a dark black raven flew off up the corridor. Somehow this surprised the members of the DA less than they would have expected. The glossy black feathers resembled Snape's greasy black hair and the beady eyes should always have given him away. Snape was an unregistered Animagus, because Professor McGonagall could turn into a cat and was the only known Animagus in Hogwarts.

"You've got seconds. It's obvious what Snape's about to do!" George yelled.

Hermione reluctantly decided to try something desperate. "This is a dangerous charm at the best of times. Brain damage has been caused by even the most qualified wizards. I don't know if I should try it. I've never done it before, I just studied it in a Criminology Text. It's a really crude method of lie detection".

"Hermione we don't have time for reasoning. They didn't care about whether the potion they used on Harry was safe or not. This git's not going to tell us what we need to know willingly. Whatever you've got, it's all we've got."

"Pinnochius!" Hermione commanded as she pointed her wand at Crabbe's head.

"Verte Pustule," she commanded again as a large pimple formed on Crabbe's forehead. "He'll be capable of lying, but that zit will become the size of a bowling ball if he doesn't help us."

"Hermione that may help "IF" he knows what potion were looking for, but not what was in it!" Ron was getting impatient.

"You forget who you are dealing with!" Hermione replied indignantly. She started to name potion ingredients which she felt would be included in a stasis potion. Each time she called a name, Crabbe would automatically nod yes or no. One by one she called out ingredients from memory from a book she had recently read called, "Over the Counter to over the Moon. .. A Guide to Pharmaceuticals for wizards.'

Angelina who had thought to bring a quill jotted down every ingredient which didn't make the zit grow larger on Crabbe's face. Hermione became frustrated when the list in her memory gave out before any coherent potion could possibly be made from it.

"Oh what is it!" She stamped her foot.

"The theory is, that this is a regular Stasis Potion. Harry shouldn't be freezing to death with this mixture. There's more to it isn't there?" she demanded, glaring at Crabbe, but with just yes for an answer, they were still no further ahead. There was no more time for thought.

Professor Dumbledore was striding quickly up the corridor with Professor Snape smugly at his side. He was remarkably calm, but not in a good way. He looked livid

"Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger, as I have no doubt on several occasions told you, we have a most capable Potion's Master". As Dumbledore scanned the list he had just Accio charmed from Hermione from across the room, he informed them that Professor Snape had already gotten this information from Crabbe, two days ago as a matter of fact. It was the variant that was killing Harry that eluded them.

In all the disappointment and chaos, Dumbledore somehow managed to compliment Hermione's Pinnochius Charm. "The Verte Pustule was a nice touch too."

"Wait a minute! Nice touch! Speaking of touches, what if it's not an -added ingredient but a contradictory curse or charm that was used with the Stasis Potion? There's got to be a thousand things you can't take or do with certain potions or charms or they don't work or worse..." stated Hermione in one breath

Snape looked like he'd just been demoted. As he scanned the list of ingredients for this Stasis Potion, he slumped to his extensive desk reference bookcase and sat down heavily. Snape must have had to swallow an extremely large amount of pride because what he asked next, came in a strained almost embarrassed swallow. "If you wish to save your friend, grab a book and begin to look up contradictions for a Stasis Charm. In other words," Snape spat an explanation, "look for anything that would not go with a Stasis Potion.

All the members of the DA started immediately. After twenty minutes of heavy study and suggestions that were shot down as quickly as they'd been voiced, no one was making progress. "Professor Snape, maybe we're not looking for a contradictory ingredient, maybe they did something to Harry to screw it up!" voiced Hermione in a frantic tone.

Snape rounded on Crabbe, "Did you or any of your party perform the Enervating Charm on Mr. Potter?" he demanded still taking advantage of Hermione's Pinocchius charm. Crabbe nodded 'yes' obediently. "How many times?" Snape demanded forgetting that only yes or no answers were possible with Pinnochias Charms. Crabbe just stared at him savagely. When Snape heard Harry had been enervated four times, he picked up his reference book, checked it for a minute, then slammed it back down. "What is a matter with you!" He spat disgustedly at Crabbe. They had never seen him speak to his house members like this. "You will be dealt with later!" Snape turned his back on the DA. Professor Dumbledore advised all present that they would be confined to their common rooms with a strict no tell policy to anyone outside the DA about what they'd just seen.

Snape added, "do not fail to maintain secrecy about everything," he stressed. "Everything!" looking at Neville, the Weasleys and Hermione. "Or that sneak trick you pulled last year to detect betrayal of your little club will look like a gentle reminder compared to anything that will befall you if you fail to remain silent!"

Dumbledore turned to Ron and Hermione. "You two will accompany us to the Hospital Wing."

They were relieved to be included but when they got back there was quite a commotion going on. The fires in Harry's room had been stoked as high as they would go. There were so many magically warmed blankets on Harry's bed that they could barely see him in there.

"Professor McGonagall spoke first. "Poppy has done everything she can. His temperature has dropped four more degrees from last time." Harry had turned a nasty shade of blue. His lips stood out white as his teeth chattered. Tyler held his hand talking softly to him.

Snape and Madame Pomfrey worked furiously on a cure following the manual from Snape's office judiciously. Time was not on their side.

Meanwhile Harry felt marvellous. He was warm and comfortable. He was dreaming of Sirius, back when he had first taken flight to freedom on a Hippogriff called Buckbeak, sent by Harry to help him escape. It wasn't long after this that Harry began receiving mail from Sirius, sent not by owl, but very large tropical birds. Harry now smiled at the bird as he pictured himself sitting on a warm beach, the white sand all around and the beautiful calm cool ocean just feet away. He decided to have a swim. He kicked some sand onto Sirius's legs as he lay basking in the sun as he ran and dove head first into the water, but the water was anything but warm and inviting, and the laughter died on his lips.

"Ah! What are you doing!" Harry screamed as his all too brief moment of a peaceful time with Sirius vanished, and reality came into sharp focus. He gasped and struggled as Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey forced him to remain in the very hot tub of water that stood where his bed had been. The bath filled his whole senses with the smell of pepper and something that smelled curiously like barbecue sauce. Harry, still half asleep and wanting to return to his Godfather on that tropical white sandy beach, continued to struggle. He was so very cold, that the bath felt like hot daggers piercing his skin. Everyone was soaking wet.

"Stupify!" Snape roared as Harry almost overpowered him in one last ditch effort to free himself. Hermione was furious. She drew her wand, but Professor Dumbledore interceded. "Miss Granger, this is the fastest most effective cure available in the book. The more gentle versions are only effective when administered directly after the contradiction has occurred." Even Professor McGonagall wiped away tears, seeing this method as cruel, but unfortunately necessary.

"Well, I said Muggles were nutters, but I guess we've a long way to go too," Ron stated flatly, looking helplessly on. Even with the stupefying charm, Harry continued to shiver violently. When he stopped, Ron thought he had died. Indeed, even Professor Snape took hold of Harry's wrist and took his pulse.

"He is alive, barely." Snape announced.

"He's come up, but still five degrees below normal now." Madame Pomfrey was guardedly optimistic. Snape opened Harry's mouth and poured some red liquid down his throat. Steam billowed from Harry's mouth, nose and ears, and he spluttered. His eyes flickered open in fright. He was still under Snape's stupefying spell. When his eyes focussed as much as was possible without his glasses, he was terrified, and once again, Snape showed his Jekyll and Hyde personality.

"It's going to be alright now, Potter. We've got you sorted out," he informed Harry in an almost kind tone.

Hermione and Ron gaped at one another. They had not heard Snape speak soothingly to anyone before. They knew the only possible reason for him to be kind to Harry was because he had in fact not cured him, and he was only trying to calm him down. When the stupefying charm wore off, Harry Shook more violently than ever. He cast his eyes to the only people in the room who had never failed him. "R...Rrrrrron...Hermione?" he pleaded, "Make them s...stop, please!" he sobbed.

Hermione almost screamed out loud as Harry passed out again and almost fell under the water, as Snape grabbed him to hold him up. At this point of deep frustration, Ginny Weasley appeared at the door and began speaking very fast, at which point, Snape crossly told her in no uncertain terms, to get out and take Ron and Hermione with her.

"Please Sir!" Ginny asserted herself forcefully through tears and choking emotion.

"Miss Weasley, State your business here, only if it pertains to Mr. Potter, please," Dumbledore allowed.

Ginny drew a deep breath and spilled every secret she'd been keeping all summer. She couldn't help failing to get to the point right away. Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey did not pay attention as they attended to Harry, who once again, had regained consciousness. Harry fought to listen and pay attention to what Ginny was saying. Her voice sounded as young as it had in her second year when Harry had rescued her from the Chamber Of Secrets. She had been controlled by Voldemort to do his bidding in luring Harry to the chamber, so that he could have him killed by the basilisk who had resided there since the days of Salazar Slytherin.

It was apparent only now, how guilt ridden Ginny had been all these past years. "I was a part of DA Harry taught. I was never very good. I wanted to join to protect Harry from Voldemort when it comes right down to the final battle. I've always known that Voldemort wanted to finish the job, we all do. I have one more year before I can take the pledge and receive some training from the Order, and several before I can join the Order, but I've been practising every charm, hex, spell, you name it, every day since last year after Harry's Godfather was killed at the Ministry and I saw how heartbroken he was."

"You, Miss Weasley," Snape spat, "You are being distracting! Get to the point for pity's sake!"

"I saw them leave the castle with Harry!" she admitted quickly, not waiting to lose her nerve.

"Go on, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore encouraged.

"There was just no time to get help. I was behind Hagrid's hut using the light coming through his windows to practise. I tried banging on Hagrid's door to get help, but no one answered. I ran off after them, not thinking. Harry was in bad shape when they finally stopped and threw him down. They were scared he was going to die, so they gave him a Stasis Potion. They were too stupid to realize that a Stasis Potion makes the taker appear dead. They enervated him so many times, I couldn't count, and I didn't know that causes damage until now. Harry started to stir after the fourth Enervation Charm, but one of them was spooked and warned everyone that he was for their Lord."

"They were panicked waiting for their fathers, and I guess that was their predetermined meeting spot. They started to celebrate, and seemed really triumphant as I hid in the nearest bushes. They were getting overzealous and were worried when their fathers were late. One of them was going to kill Harry when I put a Chaos Curse on them. They started fighting amongst themselves and left Harry alone. I kept calling to Harry, but he mumbled Hermione's name. I kept urging him to get up. I couldn't let them see me, incase I had to use force, I would have been caught too soon." When Ginny paused, the look in her eyes left no doubt in anyone's mind, that she would have used as much force as necessary, no matter what, to save Harry.

"He got up and crawled and I renewed the Chaos Spell to buy him more time. Harry laid back down and I feared he was dying. The attackers started shooting curses through the woods indiscriminately. Harry was also hit with Riktusempra! He flew up into the air, and I was about to catch him with a Levitating Charm when I got hit by the Derma Strip Curse and was knocked down." She revealed her shoulder, to verify her story, which she had crudely bandaged to prevent the bleeding.

"Ginny! Why didn't you tell us, this is really bad!" Ginny thought Ron was scolding her, and she cringed when he came to her and placed his arms around her.

"I didn't know until tonight that Harry wasn't getting better. I thought he was okay. All eight of the kidnappers were caught or gone. I figured things had worked themselves out." She was crying miserably now. "When I saw you all coming to get Harry, I was just getting up from the curse. I didn't want any attention on me, I just wanted them caught and Harry brought back safely to the Hospital Wing. I just didn't want to cause trouble, and I didn't want to get into trouble for not coming to get someone. I just had to save him...I didn't think."

I had been studying for my O.W.L.S. so much I hadn't noticed that Harry was getting sicker. When I found out he was dying, I joined the storming of Professor Snape's dungeons. I didn't remember that Harry was hit with Riktusempra until just now, because I was hit at the same time with the Derma strip curse and I fell. Is that curse also a contradiction of the Stasis Potion?" she asked fearfully.

"Of course it is!" Snape spat. "Since Stasis Potions are a movement restricting agent. Perhaps if any of you paid more attention in your classes you would know this!" Snape was venomous, as Ginny looked at Harry in anguish. Professor Dumbledore interceded in a calming manner.

"Is this all you know, Miss Weasley? This is important to Harry's life."

"Yes...except for one thing...How did Harry land safely after the Riktusempra curse? He flew really high into the air..." It was at this point that Harry recalled in his foggy memory, feeling wings spread suddenly from his body and landing softly on padded paws. Ginny was crying, she had revealed her secrets. "Can you save him?" she sobbed.

Normally, Harry would have been furious with Ginny for doing such a foolhardy thing, but somehow, he felt just the opposite. She had been so firm in her speech about helping him, that he could not take that away from her, but if he lived, he vowed that this would not happen again. He had to have something to look forward to, should he live, and somehow, right now, it was her. Had she sounded sad that he had uttered Hermione's name in his time of need? Could she possibly understand that he had also tried to call for Ron, but didn't have the strength? Needing to clarify this, helped Harry stay conscious for a moment longer, but Ginny had already been ushered out, when Professor Dumbledore had told Ron to escort her out.

"Ronald, please take your sister out to a cubicle in the Hospital Wing and alert your older brothers and Mrs Golden. Hermione, please help Miss Weasley settle into a bed, until she can be attended to . Miss Weasley, you will rest quietly until you are healed and than we will have a talk, you and I." He said a firm, but sympathetic manner, which still did not ease her.

"I'm so sorry Harry. I tried to repay you..." she sobbed, as Ron led her out.

"Ginny...It's...it's..." Harry's voice wasn't audible, above a strained whisper. She didn't hear him, as she was ushered out, almost hysterical. Harry stared after, willing her turn around to no avail. She suddenly re-appeared at the doorway, although restrained by Ron.

"You can't keep Harry warm, right?" she asked bluntly.

"We are trying, dear, please go and lie down," Madame Pomfrey pleaded for time to think.

"What about the mother dragon?" Ginny burst out, before she was half dragged away from his doorway once more. "I know about it. The one Charlie's brought here for display during family week. That's where Hagrid must've been the night I knocked to get help and he wasn't home," she said , suddenly putting the pieces together. "He was helping Charlie. Charlie once told me that a mother dragon breathes fire on her eggs. The shells are so protective, that the fire just automatically keeps them at a perfect ninety eight point six degrees..."

"Miss Weasley, please!" Snape was looking desperately through his books for a cure that would eradicate the additional curse on Harry, which was also contradictory to the Stasis Potion. "There is just nothing here!" He slammed the book down.

"Severus, I believe what Miss Weasley is suggesting, is that we can use the dragon to help Mr. Potter." Dumbledore told him, trying to jog Snape's exhausted intellect.

"Tyler, please fetch Mr. Malfoy from his inventory duties and instruct him to go straight to the Museum Room and retrieve a Hungarian Horntail eggshell which is on display there and bring it to me immediately," Snape instructed as a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face.

Harry had not moved or attempted communication for several minutes. Madam Pomfrey confirmed that his temperature was falling again. Draco Malfoy had actually hurried. He appeared in the room ,out of breath quicker than ever expected. He looked eager to stay and observe what they were going to do with the dragon eggshells. He was dismissed roughly as Snape actually pushed him by the shoulders and closed the door to Harry's room. Malfoy did not meet the gaze of his fellow Slytherins as they stared at him out of their cubicles while trying to get his attention. Of course, Malfoy could not hear them, but he did not glance at them either, obviously ignoring them to ward off suspicion on himself.

Hermione used her wand as a knife to cut off the crude bandages Ginny had managed to wrap around her shoulder. Looking back when they had seen her grab her grab her shoulder in pain when they had been fighting in the dungeons, they figured she had been hit by a relatively harmless but painful curse thrown by Snape.

"Oh Ginny, this is really nasty. It's probably infected you left it for so long," Hermione admonished her.

"Hermione, save it for later," said Ron protectively now that he knew that Ginny was really hurt.

"I wasn't doing anything, Ron," Hermione responded tersely, tense about Harry and Ginny and the overall ever present threat of Voldemort's and Harry's duel to the death.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, it's just that mom and dad will more than take care of getting after her once she's well again. They'll be steamed that she didn't tell." Hermione's words had sounded harsh to Ginny too in the state she was in, and she began to cry anew.

"I tried to save Harry. I was afraid if I told anyone I was out after hours I'd be expelled or Harry would kick me out of the DA, or worse...Really I didn't know that he was getting worse until tonight. If I had known the names of any of the attackers, I would have come forward, but they got caught on their own thank goodness anyway."

"We know Ginny," Hermione soothed. "You didn't contribute to Harry's getting worse. In fact, you probably did save him with that Chaos Curse. That's really advanced magic," she added, sounding highly impressed. "Maybe you can teach us at the next DA meeting."

"I'll be kicked out for sure." She was so miserable Ron could barely stand it. He'd spent a lifetime teasing and pretty much ignoring his only sister, but he'd never been so scared for her since she had been taken to the Chamber of Secrets three years ago.

"It'll be okay, you told the truth. You were just scared. We all are," Ron admitted. Hearing her brother admit his fear, had a calming effect on her. She didn't want to be the only one to show her feelings. Ron felt immensely relieved when Fred and George arrived.

"What happened to her?" Fred demanded, sitting down beside his little sister. Ginny told the whole story over again. Fred was just about to ask why she had not been forthcoming with the information, when George pointed out the severity of the wound on her shoulder that she had endured for two days, without them noticing.

"Can you look after her for us?" Hermione asked. Fred and George sat protectively with their sister, to allow Ron and Hermione a chance to see if they could find out what was going on. However they returned right away. They had been denied entry to Harry's room. They all took seats around Ginny's bed to wait. Hermione stole a glance at Cho Chang, who sat looking down at the floor to avoid the stares of her co accused. She felt a slight tinge of sympathy for her, but she nonetheless closed the curtains around Ginny's bed so they could have some privacy. There was also the fact that Ginny was shooting daggers at Cho with her eyes. Ginny didn't need the extra agitation right now.

No one talked. Everyone was listening hard to hear anything from Harry's room. They were a little surprised and admittedly jealous that Tyler hadn't been relegated to wait outside like his best friends had been. Everyone turned at a noise as Hermione pulled the curtains back to hear whose footsteps were coming up the corridor.

"Charlie!" Ron almost tripped over Hermione trying to reach him. Charlie was in a hurry, but when he saw Ginny, he quickly came over. When he had been assured that Ginny would be fine, he evaded their questions about what he was doing here and how long he had been here. Hagrid cleared his throat to break up the reunion. "We're going to try to help Harry, that's why I'm needed in there. I'll be back as soon as I can." Charlie and Hagrid entered the room, and try as they might, they could catch no glimpse of what was going on in there. Hagrid's massive form blocked the doorway as the door sealed shut again. Ginny had known of the dragon and had figured that Charlie would be around somewhere as a surprise for family week as one of the handlers.

Inside Harry's room, a medical experiment never before been tried was underway. It was the very last ditch effort to save Harry's life, which no one in the room had much faith that it would work, there just wasn't anything left to try. Harry was in a state so grave, he neither dreamed nor woke. He clung onto the small thread of life left in him. His body managed to breath, his heart pumped weakly. He had no knowledge of anything being done to him. Dumbledore was thankful for this., for what they were about to do to him was beyond dangerous.

Harry was to be placed into the Hungarian Horntail's eggshell filled with a gelatinous substance similar to the inside of a real dragons's egg. He would be kept on magical life support systems to avoid suffocation. It was their last hope that the dragon would accept the 'egg' and keep it warm. This particular dragon species, kept their eggs at a perfect ninety eight point six degrees, so long as the mother rotated and breathed fire on them gently at regular intervals.

Charlie gave as much of a description and instruction as he could, as Snape magically welded the egg shut with Harry inside. Madame Pomfrey breathed a sigh of relief when she listened to the egg with her large stethoscope and found Harry's heart still beating, although irregularly. "I'm afraid we will just have to be satisfied with this. All we can do now is move him to the dragon enclosure and wait," Snape told her wearily.


	24. Breaking Free

Outside Harry's room, everyone was very silent as Stephanie bathed the wound on Ginny's shoulder. "A wound like this would require stitches at home," she told her. Ginny looked horrified. "Oh no dear, I didn't mean I was going to do that," she smiled at her gently. " Madam Pomfrey's taught me a few tricks of the trade. Now, how do I do this again?" She flashed a wand that Madam Pomfrey had been letting her practice with.

No one wanted to sound rude, but Hermione had to ask, "Have you ever done this before, because you know we have a friend who had all the bones in his arm removed by an inexperienced Healer, and Ginny's father once let a Mediwizard stitch him up and it didn't go so well to say the least," she recalled with a shudder. Remembering how serious they had all considered the arm bone disappearance to be, it was a cakewalk compared to what Harry was going through now.

A portrait of a past School Matron hanging on the wall stood up and said, "now remember, Poppy said hold the wand on the right angle," she instructed from her canvas. Stephanie performed a charm that Hermione had seen the Matron perform on Harry after the Tri wizard Tournament. The wand tip was placed directly inside the wound. "There now, how's that?" Stephanie asked, clearly relieved that Ginny hadn't screamed out in agony, meaning that at least she had done that part right.

"Much better thanks." Ginny lifted her arm and the pain was gone, though the stiffness remained.

"Poppy'll likely be able to smooth out the skin for you when she's free."

"I don't care about the scar," Ginny answered dejectedly. Stephanie was worried about Harry too. Here was, yet again, another person who would gladly have had Harry as a member of their family, and yet he'd been magically bound to the one set of persons who detested him. Stephanie had come to learn a lot of Harry's past, and his future. She was glad that Harry had ties to a decent loving family. Stephanie had been alone in her worry about Harry, so when she made to leave them to their privacy, and Ginny asked her to stay, she felt better waiting with them.

An hour that felt like an eternity later, the door to Harry's room opened wide. A floating gurney , which contained the egg balanced in a hollowed out spot in the mattress, was floating out and down the corridor.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sir!" Hermione said, barely finding her voice. "Is that...is that Harry?"

"Yes, Miss Granger. I'm afraid this is our last resort. It is our hope that Miss Weasley's idea will work. He left them with this, following Snape, Tyler, Charlie, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey.

"Ohhhh!" Ginny dissolve into tears again as Charlie winked at them hopefully on his way out. "Now it'll be all my fault if he's killed by that dragon!"

"Ginny, quit blaming yourself. Harry's sick and tired of everyone trying to take responsibility for what happens to him. It's Voldemort! It's Voldemort's that's done this to Harry, and to you Ginny. You're obsessed about paying Harry back for saving your life. He wouldn't have needed saving if Voldemort hadn't had him kidnapped in the first place. You can't keep this up, Ginny!" Ron's frustration came out as anger.

"Easy Ron." George put this hand on Ron's shoulder and Ron sat back down with his head in his hands. Hermione took Ron's hand and didn't let go. It would be a miracle if Harry survived.

Charlie had kept meticulous notes from the Tri wizard Tournament, where the goal had been to remove a special fake golden egg from the clutch of real eggs without being killed by the protective mother dragon. The goal had changed. Now they were trying to add an egg to the clutch and hope that the mother dragon would not only accept and care for it, but not reject it utterly and stomp on it until squashed and than eat the contents.

Charlie instructed Hagrid to gently roll the egg down a chute which led to the nest. Madam Pomfrey gave a final listen to the egg, finding only a faint heartbeat. Snape and Dumbledore kept their wands trained on the mother dragon, whose other eggs were still the size of quaffles. They would not mature to the size of the eggshell Harry was in for several more days, but they had to take a chance. The mother dragon was grumpy, having only arrived in England five days ago. She was not yet settled. She turned her large amber eyes toward Tyler as he stood fixed to his spot as she took him in. Her large rounded nose pressed against the enclosure wall, which was transparent, and she seemed keen on Tyler's scent. The little boy was sucked against the wall of the enclosure as she sniffed powerfully. He finally mastered his fear and turned to face her. Tyler found that he could have crude communication with her. Tyler was so shocked by all that had transpired over the last two hours, that he wondered if he'd wake up to find he'd been having a dream, back in his bed in London. The dragon's fascination with Tyler, gave the others time to place Harry in the clutch. They turned away as though nothing had happened.

The mother dragon Tyler had automatically named Sashu, sensed something had happened. She circled her nest restlessly, and they all cringed as she narrowly missed squashing her whole nest. She wasn't happy, and in reality seemed angry.

"Professor Dumbledore! Let me talk to her!" Tyler yelled across the enclosure. "I can make her understand!" It was clear the mother dragon was not going to accept the significantly larger egg. Snape was about to stun her, but failing that, he was going to use more powerful charm which could damage the dragon and her babies permanently, who's only offense was caring for her young, by ridding her nest of what she considered a foreign body. Professor Dumbledore allowed a foot squared hole in the enclosure wall through which the dragon could hear Tyler's anxious calls.

"Sashu! Sashu!" Tyler waved his arms. This small hole was big enough for the dragon to breath fire through, should she perceive danger from Tyler. Again, she sniffed him. This time Tyler was sure he'd be sucked through the hole. His hair was sucked forward and was moist from the hot breath. Charlie yelled at the top of his lungs for Tyler to stop and back off, for Tyler was about to put his hand through the hole. Charlie looked close to a nervous breakdown. He was responsible for this dragon, and was also responsible to Harry through pledge and by the fact that he was a member of the Order. He held his breath as Tyler scratched the dragon's nose. In all the years he's spent in Romania working with Dragons, he'd never seen even the most experienced handlers actually touch a nesting mother. Only on rare occasion had even infant dragons who'd been orphaned or abandoned been touched, and only until they'd grown up enough to be able to fend for themselves.

Tyler tried to communicate a picture of Harry inside the egg to her. She sniffed in frustration and left to confirm his story. She seemed about to nudge his egg away from the others to stomp it.

"Sashu! NO!" Tyler yelled as Snape raised his wand. Sashu did separate Harry's egg from her own, but did not stomp it...yet. She came back to Tyler's desperate call, as sweat stood out on Snape's brow. Tyler closed his eyes as he stroked Sashu's nose. Again he tried to communicate Harry's picture . He tried it from a different angle this time. Tyler now knew of Harry's tragic past, so he embellished it, picturing a baby Harry cold on a doorstep, without a mother. Tyler left out the father, as this would only confuse her, as father dragons did not participate in the care of their young. Tyler had been inside Harry's head and he pictured Harry as a baby, cold and alone. Sashu cocked her head like a dog, trying to comprehend why they were placing a human child in her care, and indeed, even at sixteen years old, Harry was still a baby to her, for dragons live hundreds of years.

Tyler pleaded with her to help warm Harry. Again, she was unsure as why he could not be warmed by his own kind, Out of desperation, Tyler communicated his own mind's version of what Harry had been through, right from his infancy, to the hooded figures who'd recently attacked him. Something stirred in the dragon. She was furious. She reared up and gave a tremendous roar which shook the windows of Hogwarts even from the distance. This was it, Snape raised his wand . He shot a spell at Sashu, but Tyler warned her out of the way. The spell rebounded on the wall next to where Tyler stood.

"No! Don't! She understands now!" Tyler yelled. Sashu picked up Harry's egg in her mouth, and Snape couldn't let fly his no doubt more powerful curse. She placed Harry down next to her own clutch of eggs and crouched over them all, as if thinking that Snape meant to harm them all.

Poor Charlie slumped to the ground as Snape lowered his wand, looking very relieved himself. Dumbledore swept his hand across his brow. Tyler was awestruck. He had communicated with a creature he only read dreamed about from fairy tales. He gave a whoop of joy and ran down the enclosure wall, right up to Snape and Dumbledore. "Sir," he panted to both of them. "Sashu knows." They all looked at one another as if to say, 'who's Sashu?' As Charlie joined them with Madam Pomfrey, who looked like she'd need a holiday after all of this, Tyler excitedly told them that when he had shown Sashu a description of hooded figures attacking Harry, she had shown recognition. "She's seen masked people before. I think they hurt her babies. I saw a burnt out nest and wounds on Sashu's underbelly from her mind."

"He couldn't know that sir, He must be right. We only have this particular female because we found her severely wounded. She was split wide open. She'd been preparing a nest, and we think some poachers harvested her eggs and left her for dead. There is no scar left, so he must have communicated with her, because how else would he know?" It was Charlie's turn to be awestruck. Everyone was startled into a convulsive leap into the air as they heard the loud hiss of flames roar over the eggs. Madam Pomfrey nearly fainted. There was no way now to check to see if Harry had survived the blast. Charlie however had one bit of encouraging news. "If the baby inside the egg doesn't survive for some reason, which is common nowadays due to pollution, the egg goes cold and the mother puts it out of the nest, sometimes eating it." They all stared for an hour at the egg which contained Harry. It was very late and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief when Sashu curled herself around her unborn and Harry and went to sleep. She would be the only one sleeping tonight.

Charlie, Professor Snape and Hagrid would be staying with the dragons tonight. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey floated Tyler, who had finally fallen asleep, up to the castle well past midnight.

As overwrought as Madam Pomfrey felt, she checked in on Ginny. She was gentle and understanding with her. "You are young, and we all make mistakes," she advised. "You will find that Professor Dumbledore can be very understanding. We were all young once, a long time ago," she added, with a far away look in her eyes."Now, just be still, this will be a very minor sting." The skin smoothed completely on Ginny's shoulder as though she had sustained no injury at all. Her brothers were relieved when Madam Pomfrey pronounced Ginny in perfect health. She did however, as was her way, want her to stay for rest in the quiet of the Hospital Wing.

"Fred, George, You're welcome to stay as well. I expect you're worried about Harry, and if there's news, you'll be able to hear it right away here." The twins accepted right away, so Madam Pomfrey saved them the trip to Gryffindor tower to get pyjamas, by finding them some in the closets of the Hospital Wing. When they saw her magically seal the usually wide open backs of the Hospital pyjamas for them, Fred said, "Oh you didn't have to do that, we're not that modest." Even Ginny laughed at this. By the time everyone was changed, it was almost three o'clock in the morning. There was no way they were going to sleep voluntarily, but one by one, the irresistible exhaustion of the day took them. When Ron woke up, he found that Fred and George had carried him to his bed. He looked over at Harry's empty bed, almost expecting to see him there, then it all came back to him. He bounded out of bed, opened the door, and was just about to ask about Harry when he saw everyone else was still asleep. It was only six o'clock in the morning. Madam Pomfrey had fallen asleep at her desk in her chair, quill still upright in her hand.

An hour later, as they all sat drinking coffee or tea, heads supported by hands, barely speaking, Dumbledore strode in as fresh as if he'd just come from holiday. "I'll just be taking these people off your hands Poppy," he said kindly to Madam Pomfrey. Crabbe, Goyle and Cho Chang all fell into line. No one struggled or attempted to get away. Cho cast a worried look at the Weasleys and Hermione as they were led away from the Hospital Wng. Crabbe limped badly and still seemed to sport most of the injuries he'd arrived with. Madam Pomfrey had only patched him up as far as saving his life. She hadn't done much to soothe him. Cho Chang however, looked better. Her black eye was gone and her hair was as shiny black as it had ever been. As everyone looked after them into the hall, they saw Pansy Parkinson and Marietta Edgecombe march into line with the rest, apparently not allowed to speak.

They had a million questions to ask, but there was no time as the prisoners were led away so swiftly. Apparently, their parents and a Judicial Panel from the Ministry of Magic had arrived. According to Mr. Weasley, the Ministry had almost been purged of Dark Wizards and general incompetents who'd been allowed to stay as long as they agreed to leak information or turn a blind eye to illegal activity at their level, but a few still remained. Just as they had mentioned Mr Weasley, in strode Mr and Mrs Weasley into the Hospital Wing. "Oh I knew I shouldn't have left," Mrs Weasley sobbed, going straight to Ginny's bedside.

"I'm okay, mom, even Madam Pomfrey says so...Dad!" she yelled as they all caught sight of him. Mr Weasley had been on a secret mission for the Order which he was not at liberty to discuss. George stood up immediately to give Mr Weasley his seat, when he noticed his father was using a cane.

"What happened dad?" Ginny asked, tearing up.

"It's okay honey, I'll be able to tell you all about it soon. We dealt a severe blow to the supporters of Vol...You- Know-Who...oh...Voldemort!" he snapped resolutely, deciding to use the foul name this month, he confided proudly in a whispered voice. This had to serve as a satisfactory answer for now. After a tense reunion of questions about Harry, Ginny and her parents were left alone to discuss her actions of late. The twins, Ron and Hermione had not seen where Harry had been taken, just that he'd been placed in a dragon's egg. Since they had not been told specifically not to seek him out, they left the castle after hastily dressing, Fred and George had been excused from classes due to the late night, which amused them, as they had spent most of their night since the age of thirteen, devising plans for mischief well into the night, so were very used to little sleep, and being the hyper sort, this suited them very well. They slipped out into the cool air just as the rest of the students were entering the great hall for breakfast, and were fortunate to have made it out without being seen.

They were pretty certain the enclosure would be near, because Ginny had learned of the dragon on the nights she'd spent practising her charms and curses. Fred tripped over a log on his way around Hagrid's cabin. A book fell from a hollow spot onto the ground. Hermione seized it and explained to the Weasley that it was a muggle book on martial arts.

"How are you supposed to learn the proper techniques? The pictures aren't even moving," Ron complained.

"We do have moving pictures, you know Ron. They're called movies. I bet you'd like them. I was going to have you round for a visit this summer and show you a couple of my favourites. Of course, Harry knows all about movies," she recalled sadly as they pressed on. She turned to Ron half jokingly. "It's almost a shame you don't know movies, if you or Harry had a date, it would keep you from putting your foots in your mouths, because you just sit and be quiet and watch"

"How would you know I'd ruin a date? We've never..."

"I know," She said in such a way that made Ron wonder exactly what her point had been. Fred and George just shook their heads and gave him a light punch on the arm. "Clueless, little brother!" The light conversation didn't actually help, but it passed the time.

They found the enclosure fairly easily for having never heard of it's location. Charlie had fallen asleep on a hard wooden bench, and was covered with Hagrid's heavy oil skin coat. The night had been damp, and the dew had settled on the coat. Hagrid was nodding, one eye open, sitting up. Snape was still pacing, bleary eyed and pale.

"What are you all doing 'ere? No one has clearance to be here," Hagrid woke grumpily, than they realized that he was just trying to protect them. Sashu noticed the newcomers and hissed sparks where they were standing behind the transparent enclosure.

"Where's Tyler?" Hermione asked, becoming alarmed that as bold as Tyler had become, that maybe he'd gotten himself toasted.

"Poor lad was exhausted after all the work he'd done, fell asleep almost on 'is feet. I carried 'im back to the castle meself and gave 'im to his mom. Yer lot was all asleep, so I was quiet. Slipped in unnoticed for the first time in me life." Hagrid seemed amused by this, as his heavy footsteps could usually wake the dead. They saw Charlie moan under Hagrid's coat. He moaned as he sat up slowly, hand on the small of h is back. He hadn't had a comfortable sleep, nor indeed a long enough one.

"You shouldn't be here, it's dangerous!" Charlie scolded.

"And good morning to you too," Fred quipped. "Don't let mom catch you admitting that your job's dangerous, you know she's been trying to get you to give it up for years."

"What job do you think she would approve of? Don't hold that one over me, it's too early. How's Ginny?" He suddenly remembered that Ginny had been injured, though he didn't know the whole story of how it had happened until they filled him in.

"Well, that should take some of the heat off me for awhile," Charlie said grimly. "Seems like you guys have the dangerous job now. Mom's gonna go gray overnight at this rate."

Snape was either so tired he didn't dismiss them, or he didn't care that it was dangerous to be this close to a full size mother dragon, even through a barrier. "Professor Snape Sir?" Hermione said as politely as she could, and you had to hand it to her, she surprised them all when she sweetly drew a large thermos from her robes and pouring three cups of coffee, she handed them around to Hagrid, Charlie and finally Snape. "Black, right sir?" she asked in the same tone. Snape looked at her for long moment like he wanted to say thank you or something. He took a sip, holding the cup to his face to feel the warm steam. He had taken no comfort last night. They all realized somewhat guiltily that Snape hadn't even taken the time to dress properly for the cool night temperatures in the woods.

"Very thoughtful, Miss Granger. Five points to Griffindor." Was Snape out of his mind, or just so wrecked from lack of sleep that he he didn't know what he was saying?

"Thank you sir." Hermione wondered if bringing out the warm blueberry muffins she had brought would seem cheeky now. She placed one hurriedly into Snape's hand and went off to join Hagrid and Charlie again, who were also very grateful for the refreshments. Now that the caretakers were all sufficiently buttered up, they began to ply them with questions.

"Is Harry still..." Ron asked uncertainly.

"Well," said Charlie through a mouthful of blueberry muffin, "So far she's been warming all the eggs, including Harry's. If he was dead inside there, she would have gotten rid of his egg by now." Charlie cast his tired eyes over the nest. The other eggs had doubled in size overnight as expected. "That means that in another two nights or so, those eggs will hatch. Harry's will open at around the same time, or she'll help them open. Snape...er, Professor Snape," he corrected, apparently still intimidated by his former Potion's Master, "can only guess that will give Harry's body time to set his temperature back. It's just too bad we hadn't known sooner about what was wrong with him."

"Don't tell that to Ginny," the Weasley's and Hermione told Charlie at the same time. "She's really torturing herself over this," Ron explained. "If anything happens to Harry...if he dies...Ginny's gonna blame herself. She already blames herself for all of this."

Charlie was so much older than Ginny and Ron that he had been gone for so many years before they had even started school at Hogwarts. He knew how tough but still sensitive Ginny could be. "I'll visit her tonight. Assure her that sometime soon, one of us will do something that will take the heat off her from mom and dad anyway. That always cheered me up when I was little, when Bill would do something shady and get in trouble for a change, then of course you two came along..." he said appreciatively. "And the rest is history."

"We resent that," the twins chorused together, though somehow they looked immensely proud to have been of service. "We're respectable business owners now, I'll have you to know," George said in mock offense.

"Well, you can make yourself useful now if you want," Charlie challenged the twins. "Help me levitate the massive dung piles out of the enclosure. I didn't get it done yesterday. At first the twins were going to protest, but in the end, as always, they found a way to make the task profit them potentially. They collected some specimens of the dung to manufacture a more powerful dung bomb than even Zonko's had managed, which was saying something, for Zonkos didn't have access to dragon dung.

"On one condition," Charlie pleaded, needing the help, "Whatever you do, don't tell mom that I knew anything about your little experiment to further your business."

"You have our word on it, big brother. If mum asks us where we got the dragon dung, we'll tell her we were only holding it for a friend," they vowed as Hermione got she and Ron permission to climb to the top of the enclosure by pouring Snape another cup of coffee. They wondered what else he would have permitted this morning, but decided against pushing their luck. They climbed up the outside of the enclosure noticing immediately that no one had thought of closing the hole that Tyler had begged Dumbledore to make in the wall.

They were quiet, but Sashu smelled them immediately. They froze in their tracks. "Oh, we're goners!" Ron whispered hoarsely. Sashu sniffed at them so hard, Ron was sucked against the enclosure wall, his cloak sucked right through and flapping on the other side of the hole. So intense was her sniffing that his cloak became wet and began to close tightly around Ron's throat, choking him. Hermione tried desperately to undo the metal clasp at his throat, not wanting to try a charm, lest it go wrong. The clasp finally came free, letting Ron sink to the ground gasping a deep grateful breath. The cloak sopped onto the floor next to Ron, who was still in a sitting position, wheezing and holding his throat, as Snape sealed the hole with a command from his wand. Snape held his wand trained on the dragon until she laid back down protectively around her eggs, sniffing each one of them lovingly.

Snape, not realizing the Ron had been practically strangled, was about to start dishing out insults, which he knew would let off some off some of tension. Hermione was trying not to become panicked as Ron slumped over only semi- conscious. His face matched his hair in colour. There was an angry gash on his adams apple from where the metal clasp had dug into his flesh. Snape laid Ron down gently as the twins Charlie and Hagrid reached the top, stifling his desire to berate them for being so careless.

"Ron!" George exclaimed in dismay, as Ron held up his hand to indicate that he was alright, but when he tried to voice this in confirmation, he coughed and choked again. He finally managed, "It's...it wasn't...her fault...my cloak...just got caught," Charlie breathed again. Ron wasn't killed and Snape had spared the dragon. Charlie wrapped Ron in Hagrid's coat as Snape examined his throat and neck for damage.

"Your esophagus has some minor damage and bruising. You would do well not to speak for at least a week's time unless absolutely necessary. Ron closed his eyes, grateful that his neck hadn't been broken. The bruises around his neck area were already beginning to show and there would be no hiding this from Mrs Weasley. "You were unhurt I assume, Miss Granger?" Snape asked.

"Y...yes sir," She responded, finally finding her voice.

"We...can't tell mom...about this." Ron rasped, clutching his burning throat.

"Open your mouth, Mr Weasley," Snape ordered. Ron did so and Snape shone his wand tip down his throat, sending a pinkish light into his mouth, and giving him immediate relief of the pain, and just as he was about to speak, Snape forbade him, warning him that the relief would wear off before he could reach the castle if he spoke. "As for Molly finding out, that cannot be helped. I will not be a party to deception. You need to be seen by Madam Pomfrey, so do not disobey. I will inquire as to whether you report to her for examination or not," Snape reminded, as Ron tried to protest that he was just fine.

"Come on, Ron." Fred and George picked him up gently and set him on his feet. He swayed, not having come out of his dragon inspection as unscathed as he had hoped. They took him under the arms and led him down the walkway, followed by Hermione who was quiet, but clearly distraught. They didn't know what they had hoped to see or learn from coming here, but they learned less than they'd intended. Indeed, no one really knew much of Harry's condition, even if they were willing to talk to them about it. They cast one more sad worried look at the dragon's egg, which barely stuck out from under the front claws and chin of the massive beast. There was just nothing to do but wait, and they felt they had to see it for themselves to believe it, and to accept that, at least for now, everything was out of their hands.

Hagrid decided to see the group back up to the castle in case Ron got worse. At first, Ron walked between the twins, who were propping him up on either side, but it soon became clear, that given his recent illness from the skiving snack boxes, and this newest injury, he would not make it back up to the Hospital Wing under his own steam.

Hagrid picked him up as easily as if he were a doll and they made it back up to the castle within minutes. Ron was laid on his bed in he and Harry's own room. Mrs Weasley was temporarily spared the sight as Hagrid slipped past the drawn curtains around Ginny's bed and Fred closed the door after them.

"I don't need Madame Pomfrey," he croaked, but whatever Snape had done to numb the pain, had defiantly worn off, and Ron knew that Snape had done this on purpose so he would have to report to the Matron. Madam Pomfrey came in looking utterly over taxed. She took his pulse and felt his head, all of which Ron felt was wholly necessary. "I'm not sick, just a little sore throat," he protested.

"Mr Weasley you have only been out of the hospital for five days yourself, therefore, I will determine if you are sick or not." She made him hold her wand under his tongue, until it chirped out 'one hundred and one point five' "and you are sick," she informed him. "Your body was not ready, what with all that blood loss you suffered before, to heal injuries as quickly and easily as it would have normally done before. Those bruises will be nasty in colour by morning. I'm afraid you've officially re- joined the ranks of patient." This felt like an imprisonment. She looked at him with sympathy and said, "three days, Mr Weasley. No talking for three days. I'll be speaking to your parents now." She gave him some pepper up potion for his sore throat and some bruise reducer.

Ron had only gone an hour without speech, when he wondered how Harry had endured weeks of it. He suddenly made a pantomime of writing. 'How could we have forgotten this so soon!' he wrote messily. 'This is how we talked to Harry for weeks!' They had no time for conversation written or otherwise as Mr and Mrs Weasley suddenly bounded in. Now Ron quickly decided that though at the moment he felt fine, he better lay it on thick to play the sympathy card and avoid a nasty beratement for leaving the castle without express permission to do so.

The twins waited to be yelled at, but since they had really only returned to the school to help protect Harry and their siblings, they had been strangely left out of lectures on right and wrong. Indeed, Mr and Mrs Weasley had been treating them almost like adults, after having received glowing reports on their ingenious methods of getting Hogwarts out of the custody of Ministry appointed Professor Umbridge last year.

"We know you're not asleep, Ron," Mr. Weasley called, but he didn't sound angry, just tired like everyone else. "If you want to know, your mother and I were going to take you down to the enclosure today anyway." Ron was about to apologize, but even Mrs Weasley didn't have the heart to yell at them as she would have done if they'd all made it back in fit shape.

"Charlie sent us an owl about the dragon. It was to be a surprise for family week, only a month away. It seemed so far away, but now it's almost here and I wonder how much of the family will be left to celebrate it at this rate...OH Arthur!" Mrs Weasley sobbed, as Mr Weasley held her close.

"Professor Dumbledore asked us to stay on in light of everything going on here," he indicated the hospital wing. "Extra security detail to be here for the judicial review and for family week. Visitors will have to be screened to assure that they have invitations and are indeed relatives of one of the students.

"Yeah, but half the Slytherins are related to, or are supporters of Voldemort's supporters anyway...and they'll be here, at the school, right near Harry," George said in frustration. Even with three of the Weasley family members injured, and one lost to foolish pride, perhaps forever, the Weasleys now showed how devoted to Harry they were, in spite of all that had gone wrong with them since they had made Harry a part of their family.

"Well boys," Arthur Weasley advised, this is one of the reasons you were needed back here this year, besides the fact that finishing school properly is an important step to becoming an adult. I know that your mother has already told you that she is proud of your success with your joke shop, and you know how pleased I am to have four...he paused, no doubt thinking of Percy... "successful sons." It was always an awkward moment when Percy was recalled.

"Have you heard anything yet dad?...about Percy I mean," Fred asked.

"No, nothing substantial," Mr Weasley answered sadly. "But there is a worldwide arrest warrant for him. Problem is, for the Minister anyway, is that there are no more Dementors left to search for him. I have to admit, I'm glad of it. Ghastly creatures really. Of course the Ministry wouldn't want Percy found anyway. He's only on an arrest warrant because he didn't show up for the inquiry. The blame was not placed on him for what happened to Harry...but I suppose maybe he was too scared, or proud, or something, to testify that he was under strict orders to get an interview at all costs. Don't know why they bothered, they would have twisted all of Harry's words anyway, even if he could have talked to them than. Somehow in my heart, I believe that Percy was ordered to get that interview no matter what. The boy knows nothing of Muggle Medicine. How was he to know Harry could have died from being unhooked to that ventriculator...venticular thingy..."

"Ventilator," Hermione corrected for him.

"Yes, ventilator. I don't doubt that Percy deserves some punishment, but I'm just as glad he won't have his soul sucked out by those Dementors when he's caught." But Mr. Weasley couldn't have been more mistaken. The Ministry of Magic's Inquisitorial Squad wasn't the only ones searching for Percy Weasley. The Minister For Information, who'd ordered the interview with Harry to take place no matter what condition he was found in, had sent out his own security force, and it did indeed include Dementors. The Minister For Information couldn't afford to be blamed for the wizarding world's woeful lack of warning about Voldemort's return after what had taken place in London, so he wanted to lay the blame solely on Harry. With Percy's testimony that Harry could not have possibly known of the attack beforehand, this Minister would be sent to Azkaban or worse. Harry had all but screamed that Voldemort had returned, only to have a deaf ear turned to him, but that could not be made public. The few foul dark wizards who remained at the Ministry only because of lack of evidence against them, had their employment and freedom hanging by a thread. They had to prove the ludicrous lie that they had not been made aware of the seriousness of the attack.

As everyone sat in thoughtful silence, their feeling were conflicted between worry and, 'he'll get what he deserves.' For his parents, it was of course worry. Percy had never shirked his responsibility before when it came to the Ministry. The arrest warrant was issued only after he had failed to appear at the inquiry. Percy had committed attempted murder on Harry, and he had been a terrible strain on his father in his workplace, almost losing him his job entirely, and than there were the insults he had thrown at Harry and every member of his family, which had stung them to the heart, the ultimate betrayal.

Percy wandered homeless for many weeks without a clue as to how desperately dangerous his life was to become. Ultimately, the Weasley upbringing had come back to him. He wandered, not sure of where he was going. He had grown up overnight, and now he regretted not taking his parent's advice to indulge in some aimless time off after he finished school to find out what he really wanted. He had just set his goal on living as far away from poverty as possible but now he realized with a sorrowful regret, that the burrow had never represented poverty. It's warm, but eclectic furnishings, sitting together at the dining table for meals, laughing and joking with his family...he missed it...he actually missed it. Percy knew now that he just never recognized true happiness before, because he'd never been deprived of it. The memory of Mrs Weasley's home baking now seemed so present in his mind, he could almost smell it. He had no money, and he cursed himself for not being a thief. An unknown participant in a heinous crime against a mere boy, a boy Percy now realized he had always had a fondness for, even admired, was even jealous of, he told himself, and his shame grew as he realized that he was even jealous of Ron's friendship with the boy- who- lived. Percy regretted all the times he'd shut himself up in his room preparing unimportant reports for his then boss, Bartemius Crouch, whom he'd admired more than his own father, and who had ultimately turned out to be a party to the crimes against Harry through Voldemort as well.

These reflections were too painful. He regretted all the times he had shut his door on his younger brothers when they'd beg him to play Quidditch with them. He regretted the invitations he'd turned down from his older brothers to work with them at their jobs during the summer months to earn extra money, seeing their jobs as beneath him. He had never been hungry, never without roof over his head, never without clothes on his back. His parents had sacrificed everything for his education at the finest school. The pent up guilt finally welled up inside him, until he pulled up his too thin summer cloak close about him in the chill of Autumn, head in hands as his sorrow broke through the once proud face.

Percy was cold and hungry and he could easily have used his wand to open the Muggle bakery which he was sitting against, but he would do his parents no more injustice. . Of all the places he could have gone, he chose to end up Little Whinging. He wanted to see for himself where Harry had grown up. It was to satisfy another regret he'd had. He had been asked to help Harry escape from his imprisonment from the Dursley's in Harry's second year at Hogwarts. He had never taken his brothers seriously about the abuse Harry suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. Percy had snappishly told his brothers, that bringing a person to the Burrow could be no better than where they had started. He had been secretly worried that Harry would be disgusted with their home and relate to someone Percy knew, just how poor the Weasleys really were, but now Percy realized that he'd been rich all his life.

Percy had still been working for the Ministry when Lucius Malfoy had been arrested. Narcissa Malfoy was on the verge on incarceration herself. Draco, their son, was the poor one. All of the riches in the world and now he would be alone in his parent's tainted legacy. Draco Malfoy had been raised on hate of Harry, of Muggles, and non Purebloods as he called them. Most parents steered their children away from the bad elements in society. The Malfoys had thrust their only child, into friendships with the ultimate dregs of society.

Percy had believed he could follow his boss into a life of large mansions and servants. He had heard many times that his father had displeased his Department Head by refusing overtime to go home and play Quidditch with his children or (sigh!) shopping with his wife, but secretly, Percy knew Mr Weasley had loved doing anything with his mother, even shopping. Percy now knew he'd never have a life. No woman would ever marry a person who'd almost killed Harry Potter.

The falling leaves rattled down the street and Percy looked up when he heard someone crunching through them.

"Alright?" asked a husky young voice.

One thing Percy still had intact, was his almost photographic memory. That voice belonged to none other than Dudley Dursley. Percy had seen him at Harry's funeral. Dudley did not, nor would he have any reason to remember Percy. He had been too busy taking in the magical surrounding of Hogwarts. Percy knew he had been close to Privet Drive, but was unprepared to meet the Dursleys. He had only wanted to see the house where the famous boy- who- lived, had grown up. As it turned out, Dudley Dursley had just emerged from the back door of the bakery. Despite his parents embarrassment, he had actually gotten a job! It was ironic that Dudley, who'd had a weight problem all his life, to put it mildly, until recently when he'd taken up wrestling, didn't even eat cakes or cookies now, unless on special occasion.

Percy stared in surprise, but managed to utter a quick, "fine thanks," before putting his head back down. He'd heard so much bad stuff about Dudley from Harry and his brothers, that for a split second frozen in time, he almost thought he could pay Harry back by cursing his lifelong enemy. Percy hadn't heard that Dudley, had at least faked (no one was sure) a complete and miraculous life change. Dudley had actually been kind to Harry, asking him if he could find it in heart to forgive him all the hell he'd put him through. All Percy saw, was the kind of person who represented everything he'd come to hate in this past month, a spoiled, well to do, self centred brat. He was puzzled as to why Dudley Dursley, the person whom had been described as the laziest thing on two legs, would bother to ask him how he was. Had Harry lied? Percy held his wrath.

What happened next made Percy know that Harry had been lying. Dudley had re entered the bakery and emerged carrying some buns wrapped in a box, and large carton of milk. Handing to Percy, who'd eaten little or nothing for weeks, this feast, made Percy stare up at him wonder. Dudley said nothing and walked on. Percy kept his distance. He apparated himself between bushes and poles so as not make sound or be seen as he followed Dudley to Number Four Privet Drive.

The way Harry and his brothers had described it, Number Four should have been dismal and unfriendly... well sure if you lived half your life in the closet under the stairs or in a locked bedroom that didn't even belong to you, but Percy observed no bars on the windows, and the horrible bully was really a kind warm hearted boy. Percy sat munching his muffins and milk a little way from the house. In fact, he sat on the very spot where Harry had unwittingly summoned the Knight bus and saw Sirius as his Animagus form for the first time. Even with all the positive things he'd observed about this seemingly inviting home and Dudley, Percy decided that he believed Harry, after all, he had been wrong about the Burrow, with it's poor furnishings, but it's love filled rooms, so things could work in reverse... a beautifully well appointed home, with no love or natural affection within it's walls. He'd been wrong before...not that it mattered, he'd never see Harry again anyhow.

Percy entered the alleyway and pulled his cloak tightly around himself again. He risked a small, smokeless fire that he conjured for himself and went to sleep uneasily, still thinking of his warm bed back at the Burrow. He wondered if Fred or George had taken his vacated room. In fact they had not, it just felt wrong, besides, Percy didn't know how well the twins were doing financially. They were well on their way to the comfortable life he had always dreamed of for himself, even since they had hired Oliver Wood to manage the store on his days off while they 'finished school.'

Mrs Weasley tucked Ron and Ginny in as Professor Snape made his way back to the dragon enclosure. Charlie, Hagrid and Snape could not leave the dragon enclosure for long periods, so they took shifts in a shelter Professor Dumbledore had kindly conjured right beside the enclosure. Presently, Professor Lupin came out to relieve Snape as it was Saturday and there were no classes. An even stranger sight in the tiny shelter, was a house- elf. Dobby had begged Professor Dumbledore to let him serve the wizards who were guarding Harry Potter. Dobby wanted to be as close to Harry as possible.

Charlie had made a big mistake in asking Dobby if he would like a cup of coffee or tea. Dobby immediately dissolved into tears. "Ah sir, as noble as his brothers!" For Dobby had been present when Harry had received his piece of the Weasley tradition. When Charlie reminded Hagrid that Harry's gold coin had been stolen on the night he'd been kidnapped, Hagrid made plans to take a niffler and walk around the grounds near the areas Harry had been taken. Nifflers could sniff out gold, even if it was deliberately buried. Charlie turned to look at the egg, hoping beyond hope that they would be able to return the gold coin to him.

By the following morning, cold and crisp, the eggs had reached half the size of the one containing Harry. They would double again today, and hatch tomorrow. Some small level of consciousness had returned to Harry, though not enough to make him aware of his strange enclosure. He felt warm and drowsy. His eyes blinked but he was only dimly aware, so the lack of sight, he merely attributed to lack of glasses. A small amount of light flickered through the egg shell. He could see the shadow of his own hand if he placed it before his face. He felt like he was floating. Suddenly a large warm orange blast of light penetrated all his senses. He was neither calm nor frightened, just there. He fancied that he could hear a faint tapping sound as if someone were knocking at his door. He dreamily decided not to answer, and drifted back into a blissful nothingness again.

On Sunday, the day they would find out if Harry had survived the hatching, Professor Dumbledore granted permission to the Weasleys and Hermione to be present for the hatching, warning them that things could go seriously wrong. Even if they managed to extract Harry from the nest in time, he could still die, so knowing this, Dumbledore persuaded Madam Pomfrey , Professor McGonagall and Mrs Weasley that Ron should be allowed to attend, lest it be the last time they see each other in this lifetime.

Mrs Weasley had Ron wrapped in cloaks, blankets, scarf, mitts and hat and forced him to wear his cloak hood up. He didn't fuss, how could he? Hermione held Ron's hand all the way down to where the hatching would occur , and they remained that way for the entire time, waiting anxiously. Charlie pointed out noticeable cracks in the shells of all the eggs, except Harry's. Tyler made his way up to where the hole in the enclosure had been until Ron had been hurt, and pleaded with Dumbledore to reopen it. Since everyone was at a complete loss as to what to do, Snape had to concur with Dumbledore, that it would be in Harry's best interests to grant Tyler's request.

Ron cringed as Tyler stuck not only his hand, but his head, neck and shoulders through the hole. "Sashu!" The dragon immediately stretched up to Tylers's level, though not keen to have an audience at such a crucial time. Professor Snape was actually worried that he would lose his new star pupil, after all, this was an abused creature, and it had suffered cruelly at the hands of humans, and once again, here were humans, seeking her help. Humans, who were once again, encroaching on her young.

Tyler started to scratch her nose, which she seemed to like. "He's going to get himself sucked right through that hole and into her mouth!" Ron couldn't watch. He wasn't supposed to talk, he just couldn't help it. Madam Pomfrey took the time from her horror at Tyler's reckless actions to aim her wand at Ron's throat, saying, "Quietus non volumous!" She warned him if he did not remain quietly in his seat, she would send him back to his bed.

Tyler closed his eyes and put his head next to the dragon's head as Ginny let a small sob escape from her, out of fear for the little boy and worry that she would lose Harry just as she had finally seemed to have broken through his wall of secrecy. Sashu was in a hurry to return to her nest, but something Tyler was telling her, was compelling her to stay and listen. This time, Tyler got a surprise. Not only could he influence Sashu's inner thoughts, he could hear her back in pictures from her mind. Tyler's head filled with pictures moving so fast, he could barely see them. Dark wizards in cloaks were going to steal her babies again as far as she was concerned.

Tyler began trying to convince her that there was no danger to her babies. Sashu had an idea that the one egg was not her own, but she had cared for it. As more loud cracking sounds erupted in the enclosure, Harry's egg remained still. Hermione was gripping Ron's hand so tightly, it was cutting off his circulation. Ginny sat upright, trying her best not to do something rash, like run into the enclosure to check if Harry was still alive. Tyler now began to picture in his mind, from photos he had been shown by Charlie, of baby dragons, fresh out of the egg. They all had special egg breaking points at the ends of their noses. He now showed Sashu Harry's face, his soft nose not being equipped to break free from the egg. Sashu turned her great head toward the nest, unsure of what to do. Tyler suggested a small, and he emphasized small, tap on Harry's egg to help crack it open for him. Once again, Sashu put the picture of the dark wizards who had stolen her eggs, as if to say,'why should I help him?' Tyler was at a loss, when he remembered the valley that Harry had saved from destruction, so that creatures and nature could live. He showed Harry's kindness by picturing Harry with Max and the animals at the clinic.

Sashu seemed to calm a bit, although she clearly didn't like dogs. When Sashu left him, no one, including Tyler, knew whether or not they'd gotten through to her. Charms to open Harry's egg had been considered an absolute last resort, as they would frighten and anger the young mother and possibly, if not properly aimed, damage the babies. Tyler did not rejoin the group yet. No one had any idea what he had told her, so when she raised her enormous tail to strike Harry's egg, everyone felt their worst fears had been realized. She struck before anyone could react. Ginny screamed as the great tail swished down upon Harry's egg. She put her hands to her face, as a distinct cracking sound rippled, echoing sickly around the enclosure, making everyone's stomach flip flop. Fred and George, being the only ones who hadn't turned away, felt the colour drain from their faces.

When they finally got the courage to look, they saw that the egg was lightly cracked, not squashed as they had feared. Ginny breathed again as a sight more unbelievable than a three headed dog began. They could hear Sashu's tail spike chipping away lightly at the egg, than a hand emerged from between the cracks, pulling away large pieces of shell. Like so many things Harry had to endure this year, no one could help him. They had been expressly forbidden to act, no matter what occurred.

Things slowed down for a couple of hours. Harry was dimly aware of light trickling down upon him. He had been in relative darkness for days. He remembered only vaguely almost freezing to death, when a sudden awakeness occurred in him. He would remember that sound anywhere for the rest of his life. Over a year ago, in his fourth year, Harry had to involuntarily come face to face with a dragon as part of a school tournament called the Tri Wizard Tournament. He had already met a full sized dragon before! The goal of the game had been to steal a fake golden egg from a nest of real eggs from the dragon's clutch, an egg that she had guarded as dearly as her own. The sound of blowing hot flames reached Harry's ears, and his body. He felt warmed to his soul. An instinct which had awakened in him, making him want to break free of his enclosure, was now way outmatched by his gripping, all encompassing fear of dragons. He had managed to complete his task of stealing the fake egg only flying around on his broomstick. He had neither wand nor broomstick now, nor had he any idea of where he was.

Harry remembered being in the Hospital Wing. He remembered fighting against Snape, who kept dowsing him in scalding water, or at least it had felt scalding to him. He was now sickened with horror, thinking that Snape had finally managed to put him in a position where he would surely be killed. He now realized that he was in the dragon's very egg! He did not know the innocent, desperate reason for this though, and he felt sure it could not be good.

Mustering all his strength, Harry decided to come out fighting. He would most likely be killed, but he would strike his blow against the dragon before he died. He decided he'd rather die at the dragon's hands, not the Death Eaters or Voldemort, who would surely be watching this as a great sport, surpassing the Tri Wizard Tournament by leaps and bounds. He figured a fast, fiery death, would be better than the slow torture, which would surely be waiting for him on the other side of this battle, should he win.


	25. A Mother's Love

Harry crashed through the eggshell, screaming at the top of his lungs. It was not the feeble, half hearted voice he had expected to emanate from his damaged chest, but a marvellously strong, restored voice, not unlike a roar. He could neither see, nor hear the people around the enclosure as the other eggs cracked loudly in his ears. For all the new strength he felt in his chest, he felt remarkably weak in the legs still. He found he could not run away as he had planned on trying if all else failed. He was in the undignified position of sitting in the half egg shell, and with a thrill of horror, he found that he was as naked as the day he had been born, and he didn't at this moment appreciate what had been done to him, or the fact that in a sense, he had been reborn.

Sashu plucked all the babies, four in total, plus Harry, from their shells one at a time. Even in his terror, Harry plucked a piece of the membrane that had lined his shell. It was as thick as leather, and he quickly tied it about his waist just as he was plucked from the nest. Sashu swept the nest with her tail, knocking the empty shells out, and than placed each baby, including Harry back into the nest. It wasn't as easy on Harry as it was for the baby dragons. He landed roughly on his back, having only enough strength to regain a seated position. The babies were sleepy and unco-ordinated. They were falling over, stepping on and squashing Harry. He felt he should be used to this. Dudley had treated him similarly all of his life. Seeing that Harry was definitely the runt of the clutch, Sashu place him in the side of the nest, away from the other babies.

In all the excitement of watching her eggs hatch, she only now looked properly at Harry. Her eyes were on him, and he quaked with fear under her intensive gaze. Sashu now breathed fire over the heads of the other babies, leaving Harry wet and shivering in the early October breezes. It was as everyone had feared, she was rejecting him, and they would now have to begin a rescue mission. The more Sashu held Harry in her stare, the more a sense of recognition came to her. She gave a tremendous roar as Harry covered his head and ducked. She began to beat her mighty wings furiously, and Harry wished she would just get it over with and kill him. Sashu seemed to be yelling at Harry, and though she laid not a talon on him,she continued to berate him with sometimes angry, sometimes sad tones.

It wasn't long before Harry's battered body began to betray him again. He could not stand the cold, being wet and sticky, but Sashu wasn't finished with him. She gave in to her motherly instinct, and blew a rush of hot flame far enough over his body that he felt the warmth, but did not get burned. His skin and hair dried out and he felt warmed, although now the gooey film which had coated his entire body was now an uncomfortable crust of white, like dried egg whites. The long piece of leathery membrane, had shrunk to shorts length. Harry was, for some unknown reason, determined to die clothed. He grabbed a large leaf, the size of a window curtain, and once again wrapped himself in it. He hadn't been eaten or barbecued yet, so he felt like this must be yet another dream. He coughed and he knew his eyes had deceived him, for he could have sworn that he'd seen sparks fly from his mouth. Sashu seemed pleased. She bent close to him, but just couldn't accept him. It seemed somewhere in her mind, she could place that face, though thinner than when she had first had an impression of it.

Sashu, who had been brought to Hogwarts from Romania, had heard a strange scary tale from the other dragons, who had returned from this familiar place after enduring torment from the pupils of this place or one just like it. It seemed that these wizards enjoyed tormenting new nesting mothers by stealing one of their beloved eggs for sport. This child, this baby, had been one of those boys that the dragons had relayed to one another, the boy with the scar on his forehead who had stolen one of their eggs. Sashu, now believing with her recognition, that Harry was only here to commit a heinous crime against her, was furious, however she was at a loss to explain to herself how she could justify killing this boy, who had just passed out cold.

Once again, Tyler proved invaluable. He called to Sashu, but she was no longer willing to leave her nest to stretch up to see him. "Professor Dumbledore, Sir, I can make her understand. I know what's bothering her! Please Sir, let me go down to her!"

Snape argued against letting this little boy risk his life in a bid to save Harry's. "Headmaster, I will rectify this situation, as it was my idea to approve this unusual treatment." Snape squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and walked into the enclosure, which incensed Sashu. She blew fire directly at his head. Snape fired an icy spray into the fire, freezing it immediately and causing it to dissolve into a smoky mist. Tyler knew Snape would kill if he had to, so he ducked into the doorway, which Snape had neglected to close. He ran unnoticed, right past the Potions Master and stood in front of Harry, who lay sprawled face down in the nest.

Sashu did not want to hurt the child. She knew he was innocent and unique. Sashu showed Tyler her fear. Harry was here to steal her babies as he had stolen the Hungarian Horntail egg. Tyler assured her that the egg had been fake, and that Harry had actually not wanted anything to do with aggravating the nest in the first place. Tyler frantically communicated to her that Harry had only ended up in the tournament in the first place because of dark wizard interference. This explanation placated the disgruntled dragon as far as the boy in her nest went, but she wanted something now that she knew she had leverage with these humans...Harry, as a hostage. Sashu wanted the powers that be, to know that messing around with a mother's babies wasn't acceptable sport, and it was hurtful and frightening, even for a creature so large. Using a creature's young as a game was sickening.

Tyler was moved to tears as he was ordered to relate to the highest authority present, Sashu's demands, that no dragon's would be used for wizard sport ever again. It didn't seem to bother her to be oohed and awed over, but the mistreatment of young by her standards, was not negotiable. She held the cards now, and she knew that this boy was important to these humans, as important it seemed as her babies were to her.

Professor Dumbledore stepped forward and it was clear that as old and intelligent as he'd always been, he really hadn't considered that a dragon's feelings could be hurt and that they could carry that hurt for years. He had always lived his life as a caring, compassionate wizard, who never abused his power, and he felt ashamed and hurt that he had been a part in inflicting hurt feelings on creatures who were not as tough as everyone suspected. Dumbledore bowed to her humbly, at a loss for words. So deep was his guilt that he did not defend himself when she hurled a fiery wall at him. This time it was Hagrid, who, raising his wand, leapt out of no where, into the old wizard, knocking him to the ground and he himself becoming engulfed in flames. No one could believe that Hagrid lay injured, but intact upon the ground. Normally he would have been left nothing but a pile of bones. Dragon's like this could control their flames within inches of their target. Sashu had not intended to hit Dumbledore squarely, it had been a warning, but Hagrid's massive frame had come within her target range.

Hermione started screaming in indignation and anger as Ron threw off his many layers and ran into the field with his parents and the rest of the Weasleys. The thought that he'd hurt a creature, knowingly or unknowingly, had hurt Dumbledore to his heart. Everyone still standing now had their wands trained on the frustrated frightened mother. No one wanted to kill her, though they did not know that Harry's face had provoked fear and panic in her because of his past dealings with dragons. Everyone feared that Harry had died, for he had not moved during all the loud commotion.

Ginny knew in her heart that Harry would not want the dragon hurt. He had not even wanted Sirius and Lupin to kill Peter Pettigrew after all the murderous things he had done. Harry had a very different outlook on death, having seen it many times in his young life. This was a misunderstanding started by humans, and humans needed to fix it. "Please Harry, just move your hand, anything to tell me that you're alive...please," Ginny pleaded, her face pressed against the wall, where Harry could never possibly hear her. By miracle or coincidence, and at this point Ginny didn't care, Harry turned his head, without opening his eyes. He was still alive!

"Lower your wands! I"m telling you, lower them!" Tyler ordered, as he turned to Sashu and pointed to Hagrid. Tyler had heard of baby Norbert from Harry when he had tried in vain to keep Harry talking while he had been pinned under the log to keep him conscious. Tyler related to Sashu, Hagrid's sorrow of having been separated from the dragon he'd loved. Sashu trained her eyes on the prone figure of Hagrid, and was confused now. She made a deal with them. "Leave! Go back, go back!" shouted Tyler.

Reluctantly, everyone went back to their seats. Mrs Weasley was in tears as she wrapped Ron back up in his cloaks. Ron didn't care if he was cold and he couldn't feel the burn in his throat from all the yelling he had done unknowingly. He stared glassy eyed at the place where Harry and Hagrid lay, knowing that the person he'd promised to fight beside, was finally dead. Hermione's ever present hope couldn't die as she watched Mr Weasley and Snape, levitate Hagrid onto a floating stretcher. When Professor Dumbledore had recovered himself, he spoke to Sashu through Tyler. Charlie, who was the only wizard Sashu had ever trusted now stood, wand pointed at his charge, hoping he wouldn't have to use a damaging curse to stop the rampage. Charlie called to Sashu too, then he did something very brave or very foolish. He put his wand down, and stepped away from it speaking in a soothing tone. Even though Sashu could not understand the words, she understood the gesture. She had seen nasty wands before.

Dumbledore assured Sashu that she was in no further danger at Hogwarts, and even he had no understanding of how much of the conversation the dragon could take in. He intended to put an act in front of the Ministry of Magical Creatures to stop further exploitation of these misunderstood dragons. So much had been learned on this day. How it all turned out, would have a huge impact on the outcome of the proposed protective act.

Tyler let Sashu know that she was in control. They just wanted Harry, not her babies.

Sashu nudged Harry onto his back and made a sad, anguished noise. Even she could tell that he was not acting like a normal baby. She inquired of Tyler what was wrong with the boy. Again, Tyler showed her the dark wizards attacking him, as she blew a hot gentle steam over him. His skin seemed to pink up almost immediately, as Sashu nudged Harry again. He opened his eyes slowly, panic returning in full, staring into the large orbs inches from his face.

"Harry!" Tyler yelled.

"Tyler! Get away from it! It'll kill you too!" Harry yelled in alarm.

"No Harry, stay down, she understands me. Just hang in there. She's really scared."

"She's what!"

"Look, Harry, she thought you were there to steal her babies because of that tournament you were in."

"That wasn't my idea! I never thought that was a good idea from the start," Harry lamented, feeling sick and miserable. Sashu's face came closer to his. "How much do I have to pay for that tournament? If it was money, I'd give it all away. Cedric already paid with his life for it. If you're gonna kill me dragon, do it now! I'm dead already anyway! Do you hear me dragon! Right here!" Harry pointed to his heart. "I'm done! Everything in the world's my fault, I shouldn't have lived! Come on!" he bellowed at the poor dragon, than he staggered, passing a hand over his brow, breathing labouriously. He fell to his knees sobbing unable to continue and waiting for the final blow which never came.

Hagrid sat up, receiving care from Madam Pomfrey. He had tears in his eyes. There wasn't a dry eye in the place, who didn't wish they could ease Harry's burden. On top of everything else, here he was being accused of being cruel to a creature, when he had never been cruel in his life, though at times, at least on Dudley, it would have been more than justified. Sashu now knew that Harry had also been abused all his life and became protective of him. She stood protectively over him as Dumbledore promised that sporting tradition would change at Hogwarts immediately. Dumbledore was a humble man, and would do anything to improve himself and his school.

Harry's whole body shook with pain, physical and mental. He could take no more. He still had no idea why he was here. He wasn't aware that somewhere, very close were his friends, his family. Once again, Sashu warmed her nest and Harry prepared to be engulfed in flames and die. He hoped it would at least be quick. He opened his eyes, though without his glasses, it didn't do much good. Sashu allowed Charlie to levitate Harry's glasses to him as Harry sighed in uncertain relief that he did not get burned.

"Harry, you're going to have to reach out to get your glasses," Charlie called. Harry wasn't sure he wanted them. As far as he was concerned, there wasn't anything to see, but he put them on reluctantly. When he looked up, his eyes still misty, it struck him just how beautiful the creature was. For a full minute, she stared right back at him, no longer seeing the brave warrior who had committed aggressive acts on her kind, but though, at sixteen, he was almost a man, she saw a small child. Harry's scar was no longer an identifying mark upon his brow, but a bond between the child and herself. They had both been cruelly stricken by dark wizards in their pasts.

When Harry finally figured out that she was no longer bent on killing him, he sank back down and Sashu closed off everyone's view of him. Harry could not fight his exhaustion any longer and fell asleep. All anyone watching could do, was hope that Harry would survive until Sashu would let them have him. It was clear that she would do him no direct harm, but they feared that he may need medical attention. Between Charlie and Tyler, Harry was sent soup and crackers and protein shakes, but Sashu would not permit them to see or touch him. Hagrid had sent a gift of whisky to the mother for her babies, even though they were not orphaned and would not need anything but mother's milk. She gave some to all of her babies and insisted Harry have some. Noting the absence of chicken's blood, Harry was eternally grateful. These dragon's needed no extra protein so Hagrid had thoughtfully left out that ingredient.

Sashu did not understand weight proportions between Harry and her babies, who gulped the whisky gratefully. It wasn't long before Harry was extremely comfortable. It was a good thing that Sashu had blocked him from view, because right now, Harry felt no pain, and didn't care in the slightest that he was buck naked. Tyler could only catch snippets of his drunken conversation with Sashu.

"It's a nice place y'ev here, but I do think the roof leaks, it's a little musty, and I think yer dog pooped on the floor over there", he said, pointing to a large pile of dragon dung. "BIG DOG! Nice puppy, puppy!" Harry called drunkenly. In a way, it was nice to hear Harry out of fear and feeling no pain. He must have passed out, because Sashu blew a light heat over him and his conversation ceased after he slurred to Sashu in a friendly was that he had a dog too.

Mr and Mrs Weasley had endured many beratements from Ron, who had been ordered back to the Hospital Wing when it became apparent that the cold tension filled wait was proving too much for him to handle silently. Normally, he would have been punished for the behaviour he was now showing. He had lost his voice in protest that he needed to be near Harry. Mr Weasley had for the most part, left the discipline to his wife, but now he reluctantly, with regret written all over his face, raised his wand and struck Ron silent to save his throat. He ordered Fred and George to take him back to his room. Hagrid waved everyone off when they suggested that he head back to the castle as well and they had to admit that he looked fine. A half Giant's constitution is very strong indeed.

Ron was so distraught that Hermione felt torn between staying and going. Ever loyal, Ron indicated he wanted her stay here, as the twins led him away regretfully. They would have protested as well, but looking at Ron's pale face, they had to agree that he needed to lie down. He gave one last long glance at the nest, feeling guilty for the hard time he had given his parents at such an already stress filled time .

When Harry awoke, glasses crooked, feeling quite hung over, but not knowing whether it was the whisky or the injuries that were making him feel so miserable, he saw the baby dragon's were still sleeping. He was no longer scared, nor was he resolved to die. Sensing her child stirring and still going by instinct alone, Sashu figured that having woken early, he must be hungry. She offered him some more Firewhisky, and when it came near his nose, he almost wretched, and clutched his stomach. She pushed his human drink, the protein shake over to him, and though he didn't have the stomach for it, he sipped it anyway to avoid the further intake of alcohol. Just the container of it being near him was enough to make his senses reel. When Harry had finally finished his protein shake, Sashu, to Harry's absolute embarrassment, raised her talon, and gave him a light tap on his back. He burped, and it now became apparent that living inside a dragon's egg had had a very profound effect on him. The burp had brought sparks issuing from his mouth! While he was feeling like that must have been some very powerful Firewhisky, Sashu seemed immensely proud. She blew flames over her babies, as if showing him how it's done. Harry wasn't remotely scared, just curious. What was he doing here? Would this new talent stay with him? This was the first time Harry had been alone without someone fussing over him, if you didn't count the over protective mother dragon that is. It felt almost like freedom to him now to be here with her. Harry of course, had no idea how heartsick and worried everyone was about him.

Harry had no desire to escape. Where? He thought to himself. He almost fancied now , that if he wanted to run away from his destiny, this dragon might be just the ticket. He kept his fantasy in check, when he decided he would not risk his new friends life for a chance at freedom, and feeling this way, he wondered for the first time, how would get out of here. Knowing that Tyler was around, Harry could sense he was safe, a feeling he was not keen to give up.

It had become apparent to everyone assembled, that Sashu was not willing to give Harry up just yet. The light of day, turned to night. Harry had slept a good deal of the day away, sleeping off the Firewhisky, and feeling very warm with the baby dragons. When night fell however, Harry found that the pain in his body had returned in full. Madam Pomfrey had informed him that he would have to take potion to ease it for many months yet, if he was to heal properly. Harry tried hard not to make a big deal of it, he'd endured so much in his life.

Sashu remembered Tyler showing her images of Harry trapped under a fallen tree, and he had also related Harry's injuries to her. She knew she had helped Harry as far as keeping him warm, but even she could tell his face changed when he cringed in pain. It did not escape her mother's instincts. She blew a warm puff of heat over him and covered him in large leaves. Sashu turned to Tyler who had fallen asleep under a large feather filled blanket conjured up by Professor Dumbledore for him. Tyler woke up, almost sensing her gaze. Tyler was allowed to see Harry, as Sashu asked him what she could do for this baby. Despite being told that Harry was almost grown as a human, Sashu saw him as a new baby.

Tyler suggested that Professor Snape put Harry's medicine into a warm cup of tea. Snape seemed relieved that Harry was alert enough to feel pain. He placed Harry's many potions into the cup of tea with honey and milk that Dobby had made, and floated it out to the nest. Everyone who remained in the seats around the enclosure was rewarded with a brief glimpse of Harry reaching for his tea from under his leaf blankets.

The pain in Harry's back diminished immediately and the tea felt wonderful on his throat. Sashu closed her nest off from view as quickly as possible, and she seemed to feel better now that her 'child' seemed to be feeling better, though by morning, she wondered why he wasn't tromping around the nest like the other babies. She did not understand yet, that Harry could not walk.

On the second day since the hatching, Sashu had trouble keeping her babies from treading on Harry. They were becoming a handful now already, though she felt she could not neglect Harry. That evening, when she had finally gotten her babies to sleep, she tucked Harry lovingly into the large leaves on the opposite side of the nest. She was exhausted, but Tyler had told her that Harry had no mother. She couldn't let him go out into the world without a mother.

Though Harry could not communicate with Sashu as well as Tyler had, there was a bond between them, though Harry still had no idea why she seemed to be looking after him. He had gotten quite used to the tap on the back when he'd finished his meals and potions, but he was unprepared for what happened next. He finished the last sip of his cocoa and scrunched up his shoulders in preparation for the tap which would be forthcoming. Sashu gave her usual small tap, and this time, a small flame emanated form Harry's mouth. Harry was so shocked that he wiggled his tongue around in mouth to check for burns, but there were none. Sashu was proud indeed. She in turn tapped each of her babies on the back, who emitted sparks and smoke rings from their mouths. As ridiculous as it was, Harry was almost proud of himself. According to the Dursley's, Harry had done every milestone at least three months behind Dudley. Harry thought bitterly that he'd better not show off, he might be accused of publicity seeking.

"Can I go now?" Madam Pomfrey examined Ron's throat carefully as Hermione sat in the chair next to his bed. She had been going between Ron's bedside and the dragon enclosure for three days. Up to now, the only thing she'd been able to tell Ron was that Harry was still alive, and Sashu wouldn't let anyone else near him.

"Yes, Mr Weasley, you may go." Madam Pomfrey's tone, let Ron know that he'd been a pain in the neck during the last three days.

"I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey," he apologized sincerely. "I just wanted to get back to Harry." He looked down at the floor.

"I know Mr Weasley, we're all quite on edge, but I daresay you should apologize to your parents. They could lose one son, they don't want to lose another. Ron had not gone quietly back to the Hospital Wing that night. He'd said some pretty awful things in his anguish.

The morning was cold and rainy so Hermione made her ceiling charm for them to walk down to the enclosure. When Mrs Weasley saw them, Ron knew she held no grudge as she drew him into a warm hug. Ron hugged his parents, very ashamed that he had given them such grief.

Ginny had said very little for the last three days. She had made herself a little makeshift tent, and had stayed by the side of the enclosure, feeling sure that somehow she would able to help Harry, she just had to. For the first day, Ginny had been angry with the mother dragon, then she felt jealous that Sashu would not give him back, than she just felt that everything happened for a reason, and sometimes you are just not made privy to those reasons.

Ginny had never made her feelings for Harry public since she had had a crush on him as a small child. As far as she had let on, she had grown out of her childhood crush, yet she was strangely drawn to stay near Harry. She knew she would have done this for any one of her brothers, but this she also knew, was different.

By the third day, it wasn't only Sashu who was having a hard time. Her little ones had grown significantly bigger overnight, and were much larger than Harry now. Not being able to walk, meant Harry had to crawl painfully away from their trampling clumsiness. The little dragons were intensely curious about the different baby. Sashu had just shielded Harry with her tail, as one of the babies, burped a small fireball at him playfully. She knew that his soft, pink skin was not flame resistant like her other babies. It was at this point that Sashu knew she could not keep Harry as she had intended.

Sashu nuzzled Harry, and Harry understood. Part of him, a small part, would miss the quiet of the nest, but the bigger part missed the company of his friends and the comforts the nest could not provide, like Ginny's back rubs to ease his pain. Sashu called to Tyler in a series of soft chirrups, long and short. Again, Tyler woke immediately. Sashu seemed almost formal in her stance. Harry saw Tyler nod in relief and understanding, just as she closed off her nest from view again.

Tyler conferred with Dumbledore and Snape, than approached the waiting area. "She wants someone to come collect him who loves him. She'll only accept females, Tyler informed Hagrid as he volunteered eagerly for the position. She wants to talk to someone about Harry. I think she wants to make sure that someone will mother him. She knows, see...that he has no...mother."

The obvious choice was Mrs Weasley, but even Mr Weasley did not seem keen to let his wife go down to meet the protective mother. It would take more than one person to get Harry out of there, so it was decided that Hermione and Ginny would accompany Mrs Weasley to get Harry. Mr Weasley hugged Mrs Weasley like they were saying goodbye, and Ron embraced Hermione, not wanting to let go of her. "I'll be right back," she assured him, as they had to run to catch up with Ginny, who was warned not to come across as too bold.

"Oh, I know I know," Ron lied. He remembered vividly the times when two of them would pair off to defend the other, but now, he felt left out of the loop. Sure, the dragon had not harmed Harry, but she did not have the bond with Hermione, his sister, and his mother as she had with him.

Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley approached the curled up dragon with fear and caution, arm in arm, even though Tyler assured them that everything would be fine, so long as she felt that she could trust them to look after her charge.

Sashu seemed to have questions that were very tough for all of them, translated by Tyler. She wanted to know who Mrs Weasley was, and what her intentions toward Harry were. Sashu could not understand how dark wizards could have gotten a hold of Harry without her knowing about it. Tyler tried to explain that dragons aged slower than humans, and that Harry in fact, was not a baby, and that even if Mrs Weasley was his real mother, she would not still be with him all the time. Sashu did not quite understand, but she did know that Mrs Weasley had adopted him in her eyes and that she loved him like her own, and that was good enough for her.

Sashu seemed to understand Hermione. She looked at her own babies, and then at Harry and Hermione. She felt that Harry and Hermione looked similar to each other, and she guessed that Hermione was his sibling. Mrs Weasley pointed out her children to Sashu. When Sashu saw Ron, she looked back at Mrs Weasley, as if remorseful that she had accidentally hurt her child. Charlie knew he had enough new knowledge and understanding of dragon's feelings and family structure to re-write the book on dragons.

As Sashu regarded Ginny, the small girl shivered slightly despite trying to remain calm. Even Tyler, though he would never tease Harry about it, had figured out that he had feelings beyond friend for Ginny. The dragon felt that it was entirely too early to be scoping a mate, but she didn't understand the human aging process. The earnest expression on Ginny's face, let Sashu know, before she had even asked Tyler, that this girl truly had protective instincts for Harry. The dragon knew that they could not replace Harry's mother, but she felt she could trust these females to nurture him back to health and happiness. So it was with sorrow, that Sashu stood aside and let them see Harry for the first time in days.

The sight was nothing short of awesome. Sashu seemed to be saying a quiet goodbye to her nestling as Mrs Weasley transported Harry onto a stretcher, wearing only the leaves he had wrapped himself in. As soon as he was out the cozy nest, he felt the icy cold breeze of October. Sashu approved highly of the ladies placing their cloaks on him. She could tell that he would be well tended. The babies needed her attention, which was a good thing, as she was getting very emotional.

Ginny looked into Harry's green eyes, and knew that there was something different about him. He looked back at Sashu, feeling almost sad to leave her. He knew she had adopted him, and she had only let him go because in her heart, she knew he belonged with his own kind. Now that she had Harry safely in her care, Ginny felt grateful to the dragon who had saved Harry's life, and she gave a polite bow of thanks, as did her mother and Hermione.

"I''ll come see you as soon as I can," Harry promised. Tyler did not have to translate. "Thanks," Harry said through tears he now did not care who saw. He really had no idea just what had taken place over the past days, but he knew that it was something very special. Sashu blew a warm breath over him before Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley gently drew him away.

Harry and Sashu watched each other for as long as they could see. Everyone ran up to them, ecstatic to have Harry back, and relieved to have had the transaction go smoothly and without injury or death. Harry was not the only exhausted one. Indeed they all looked haggard as they travelled back to the castle.

Charlie and Hagrid saw them up the outer wall of the enclosure. "I'll be up ter see yeh soon, Harry," Hagrid promised. Charlie, who had been scribbling down notes the entire time, complimented Tyler for his handling of the situation.

Ginny held Harry's hand all the way back up to the castle. There was a silence among them. Harry just wanted to seal this experience into his memory, his and his alone at least for now. Harry had not had anything like a secret or privacy for a very long time, except for bad periods of isolation and lonely times, nothing positive like this had been. He knew he would visit Sashu again as soon as he could. He missed her already as a matter of fact, but when Ginny smiled at him, eyes bright from being on the on the verge of tears of relief, he was glad to be going back, even if it was only to the Hospital W ing.

Max leapt happily up onto Harry's bed as he was tucked in, glad of the smooth soft mattress and blankets. Harry patted the shaggy head of his enthusiastic friend, and looked forward to taking Max for walks around the grounds. 'If my legs hurry up and get with it,' he thought.

The last thing Harry felt like was being fussed over. He just wanted to sleep, and dream of dragons, flying, breathing fire, and being free, but he submitted politely to the usual routine. Madam Pomfrey's wand shouted "ninety eight point six !" from under Harry's tongue and everyone cheered, except Snape, who merely nodded, as if for once Harry had concocted a satisfactory potion in class. "Satisfactory Potter, I believe you are on your way." Now that Harry wasn't necessarily dying, Snape had regained his cold, detached demeanor.

"Alright, there are entirely too many people in this room. I must ask you all to say goodnight. Mr. Potter needs his medicine and some rest. Mr Weasley, it is time for you to rest that throat as well. To bed now," she ordered Ron.

Mrs Weasley hugged and kissed them both warmly, and suddenly having them both back safe, realized just how exhausted she really was. Dumbledore had made arrangements for them to reside in a Suite off the Hospital Wing, except for Ron, who would continue to reside with Harry. Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek, saying, "now I'm jealous I can't stay too. Don't tell Ron anything. Make him wait until you can tell me too. It's so good to have you back...again!" Everyone was so tired, that there were no celebratory gestures on the success of the whole experiment, which Harry still had no clue about. He still had no idea why he'd been in a dragon's nest.

Ginny had lingered behind the parting company as everyone welcomed back and said their goodnights. She shyly approached Harry's bed and seemed to search his face. "There's something different about you...Oh no, in a good way, I mean," she added hastily as he became sensitive after that statement. Ginny didn't know what else to say, so she said goodnight to Ron, and before she could stop herself, bent and gave a very stunned Harry a goodnight kiss and departed without a word. Harry looked at a grinning Ron with a look that clearly said, "what was that for?"

When everyone except Ron had left, Madam Pomfrey and Snape had a last check on Harry before leaving. "Harry dear, we were so worried," she told him, sounding more like Mrs Weasley than the School Healer, and looking at Snape, who gave no indication of any such thing. She tucked the blankets in close to him, and cleaned and in fresh pyjamas, he felt very comfortable and sleepy.

"Mr Weasley," Snape said in deeper tone than usual, "I believe it would be in Mr Potter's best interests to rest now and talk tomorrow, and yours as well." Ron was just about to promise to keep the conversation short for tonight, when Snape pointed his wand at the completely astonished boy and struck him silent with a silencing charm. To Ron's absolute disgust, Madam Pomfrey did not seem to be much perturbed by this, stating that she quite agreed, Mr Weasley should rest his throat.

Now Harry wondered what had happened to Ron that would make everyone keep telling him to keep quiet. As soon as they were alone, Harry asked nervously, "what happened, you okay!"

Ron gestured that 'yes,' he was alright, just furious with Snape now. Though they tried to communicate, Harry's potion had made him very sleepy and talking in mimes was just too tiring. There wasn't a piece of parchment or a quill in sight anyway, and soon they were fast asleep.


	26. The Dragon's Child

Harry awoke, again without his glasses, to find someone staring him, very close to his face. He almost swore, such a start it had been after all that happened. "Harry, it's only me!" Ron shouted as Harry swung out connecting with his best friend's jaw.

"Sorry! I just didn't know where I was for a minute," Harry apologized. "What were you doing anyway? Holding a mirror to my face to see if I was alive?" Harry could think of no other reason for Ron to have been so eager to wake him quietly and not disturb the others.

"No, Harry," Ron explained somewhat awkwardly. "It's just that...well...Harry, whenever you took a deep breath and let it out again, sparks flew out of your mouth!"

"What?" replied Harry incredulously. "That can't be. I thought I was just imagining things after the Firewhisky." Ron looked momentarily impressed and made a mental note to ask Harry about that later. They were not old enough to drink alcohol yet. "What happened to your neck?" Harry asked with concern, fearing that there had been another attack on the school. "That looks really bad."

"That's a bit rich coming from you, mate," Ron told him in good nature. Harry had survived his latest ordeal, but he still looked very pale, like someone who needed a vacation in the sun. "I'm fine," Ron said, though Harry still looked sceptical. Ron told him what had taken place with the dragon, though Harry remembered nothing from that time. "So, what was it like anyway?" he asked, "being inside that egg and all?" Harry explained that he could only remember passing moments until he'd gained enough strength to eat the food that was sent to him in the nest by Snape from Dobby.

Harry had guarded feelings as to whether or not to tell Ron about Sashu's apparent adoption of him. He didn't want to sound soft, but taking in Ron's cuts and bruises, he knew he should tell him. As many battles as they'd fought side by side, Harry knew he could trust Ron not make fun of his feelings about his experience.

Harry cringed as he told Ron about how he'd been burped by Sashu, which was when he'd first noticed his new little irregularity... flame throwing. Ron was mesmerised, and Harry was relieved that Ron didn't make any wise comments about the old tale of the Dragon's Child as he continued. Harry knew of the tale, shared by wizards and Muggles alike, for wizards knew that dragons exsisted and Muggles knew they did not. When Harry was finished telling all he could remember, minus how he missed the dragon somehow, the others were still asleep yet, so Ron began to tell Harry the story that had been read to Harry by a teacher at his Muggle school, from a wizard's perspective.

Ron had 'borrowed' a book from Hermione without asking. It was a story book for children that she had purchased upon becoming a Prefect. She thought it would ease the tensions of the new first years to have someone read them a bed time story on their first night in the different surroundings so far away from home and it had worked like a charm for nearly every nervous first year. Ron had never been that sympathetic, but he did not have the perspective of being a Muggle-born entering the magical world for the first time either like she had. It was a little awkward to say the least, but as Ron was sincere in wanting Harry to know the wizard's version of this story, he just relaxed and let Ron tell the story, first promising that he would never discuss this later.

The story of the Dragon's Child began in a wizarding village over a thousand years ago. It was said that an unexpected disaster had befallen a wizarding village and a Muggle town beside it. People from both villages had fled, returning to find their homes had all been burnt and nothing remained of either village. Both Muggles and wizards alike tended to blame the dragons that inhabited the mountains deep caves where humans feared to tread.

Six years passed as the towns rebuilt separate villages once more. The dead had been buried and the wounded healed, and the missing still longed for. The humans did not find out, nor did they care to know, that the same disaster had also stricken magical beasts and other animals as well. They too, had suffered great loss, and as a result of the accusation against the dragons, they were hunted to near extinction in that part of the world, complete extinction according to the proud Muggles.

It happened that an enlightened wizard, while taking a walk of reflection as he often did, heard a voice coming from a cave where humans usually dared not tread. He decided to investigate, despite the fables of surviving dragons, which were rumoured to be lurking in these very caves, according to old wives tales. The old wizard felt sure his eyes deceived him when he came upon a child, crouching in the cave. He had pale skin, as though he rarely left the cave, and sandy hair. As the wizard approached the child, glowing large eyes appeared behind him. The child had in fact been sleeping, sitting up against a great dragon!

It was clear to the wizard that the child was in no danger from the dragon, but it was not clear, however, to the dragon that the child was in no danger from the wizard, for she had seen people dressed like this before, long dark robes and pointed hats. She rose to her full majesty, blocking the child from the view and the wizard instinctively drew his wand. The dragon blew fire, engulfing the instrument of mass destruction immediately.

The two instinctively driven enemies stood facing one another, neither striking another blow, and so it became apparent after sixteen hours like this, that humans tire more quickly than dragons. The wizard finally sat down, and another eight hours, a full twenty four now, he fell asleep. The wizard awoke with the child standing curiously over him, with the charred remains of the wand in his right hand. The wand's core of Unicorn hair, although singed, had not burnt away completely. The wizard opened his mouth to caution the child about playing with the instrument, but before he could get the words out, the child had waved the wand innocently in the air. The child flew up to the ceiling of the cave, striking it very hard and landing slumped on the stone floor. The dragon awoke to find the child not moving.

The wizard, a Healer in his village, moved to offer aid to the child. The dragon protected the boy from his view and touch in fury, until it became apparent to her, that he had died. Now the quiet commotion was over and the time for revenge was upon him. The old wizard obtained his wand with a simple Accio Spell, wishing he'd done it sooner. He was a very powerful wizard and reluctantly stunned the dragon in a single spell, despite his broken wand.

The wizard knelt by the child again, and found that he still breathed. He carried the child away to his village, where he recovered fully. Once awake and quite healed, the wizard attempted to find out where the child had originally come from so he could be returned to his parents, but the boy spoke no language recognisable in the village. The wizard was about to scold the boy when he found ink spilled in large quantities all over his desk in his study. As he looked up with a frown from the mess on the desk to the walls of the study, there were child like drawings of a human and a dragon, which depicted scenes of a sleeping child, curled safely in a dragon's tail, and one of a dragon crushing up fruit for the boy, and the old wizard knew that the child had been in the care of the dragon for most of his life.

The boy had been taken from the village six years ago at the age of one, when the villages had been destroyed. The wizard wondered how the child had escaped death all these years. The task of finding out whether the boy had belonged to the wizard's village or the Muggle town, now fell to the old wizard, but in reality it was clear now by the writing on the wall, where the boy belonged now, and no one was more aware of this the dragon, who had taken to swooping down upon the villages in search of her child.

Around this time, a new school was forming, and there had been talk of four houses, one each for the founding wizards. It was uncertain if Salazar Slytherin would back out of founding the school because of prejudices he harboured against those he deemed not of Pure Blood, then rumours and nothing more had circulated of a Fifth House, whose symbol would be the only one not bearing an animal, but rather a plant, a four leaf clover to be exact. Since Slytherin, one of the four founding fathers was against this house, as it would not only house what he referred to as Mudbloods, but also an as yet unclassified group of students, who were not necessarily Pureblood, Mudblood or Half-bloods, or even, worse yet, Muggles! They were just plain wild magic. It was foretold by a Seer that one day, these four houses would need to unite to fight an ultimate evil, and that the Cloverhouse students would act as the stem to hold the four leaves, the other houses together, like the leaves on the four leaf clover, which many wizards used as an herb for many potions to keep ingredients from separating and ruining the batch.

When the other four houses became established, the Cloverhouse had not been established, so students classified into this house became known as Cloverhouse hopefuls, though they had no founding father. It was said that among the Cloverhouse hopefuls, there dwelt those that could communicate with the animals, and the candidates for this house were not applicants, but those that had to be sought out by Seekers of Wild Magic. Since Salazar Slytherin protested this new house vehemently, claiming that communicating with lowly beasts did not a wizard make, it was unclear in modern history books as to whether or not Cloverhouse actually ever took up residence in the new school. The old wizard it was said, went in search of one of the wizards who could communicate with the beasts, and finding a willing volunteer, asked him to speak to the dragon. Ron told Harry he'd seen a sworn document in a wizarding museum in London, which gave account of the first ever of such attempted communication. He read from his memory, the exact words on the document, having done a project on the Dragon's Child for one of Professor Binn's History Classes.

"I Tabirius Goldsmith, do hereby swear that the dragon residing in Huronia Hills, is both willing and able to cease hostilities on the village providing that her child is returned to her unharmed. Nigh on six years ago, when the beasts family was destroyed, and she was forced to flee from her home, said dragon did then observe one small human child alone in a burnt out human habitat. The dragon believed at the time that it was the wars of men that had made she and this child homeless. Deciding to take the innocent child away to raise it without the tendency to fight like humans have always done, she took said child away into her care.

It is only now that the beast understands to the extent of what I could tell her, that what befell her home and the homes of humans both magical and non magical, was a wrath of nature, since it was only after the great disaster that the study of weather events began to try to stem the destruction by early warning of these natural occurrences. The study of weather was also started to further the relationship between wizard kind and humans by explaining disasters such as earthquakes and the like as being natural and not caused as acts of war by either village.

In further authenticated journals kept by Tabirius Goldsmith, it is related that the dragon agreed that while the child would be raised by her since the parents could not be found, he would be afforded an education, and it had later been revealed, that the child had attended Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry in an as yet unclassified house. Rumours flew that Slytherin had left the school not only because of the admission of Non Purebloods, but largely because of the group of students, who when placed under the Sorting Hat, were sorted in a secret fashion, with no verbal proclamation of their designated houses shouted out loud by the Sorting Hat, so the students were left to choose on their own. Slytherin felt that they should all go to Helga Hufflepuff, because she had offered to teach 'the rest' but when some of the unclassified students chose to join Slytherin, he would not hear of it, and left, never to return. If only he had allowed the Fifth House to form fully, he may have found that none of the students would have joined the other houses.

When Ron had finished the story, Harry exclaimed, "Wait a minute Ron...do you know what this means!"

"Yes...no...sort of . Cloverhouse really existed over a thousand years ago when Hogwarts first formed. The rumours we've heard from the castle ghosts that we dismissed as fables...about a Fifth House...they're all true," he whistled in amazement.

"And people who can communicate with animals, like Tyler Golden...Cloverhouse!" Harry began to picture Hogwarts a thousand years ago. He wondered why there had been no official records kept of Cloverhouse, and even more, he wondered if they had ever had their own residence in the castle if they'd ever been allowed to officially form. Was there any evidence of their existence to be found? Dumbledore had seen to it that official records of the new Cloverhouse, at least where it now started, were preserved upon the first Sorting Hat proclamation hinting of the new house, and what's more, he had gone on record as stating that he believed firmly that there had indeed been a Cloverhouse residence in the vast castle, though try as he might, it had remained as elusive as the Chamber of Secrets. The castle harboured many secrets.

Ron told Harry, sounding very much like Professor Binns, to Harry's amusement, that the historic documents had gone on to say that the child had grown up, and after graduating Hogwarts, he started a Dragon Preserve in Romania! Ron and Harry had both heard these fables, but never for one moment thought that when they were quite grown, they would start to believe this Fairy Tale. Ron asked Harry why Muggles called stories 'Fairy Tales.' No Fairy he'd ever come across told stories. Harry was about to laugh at Ron, but finding that he was quite serious, he supressed his laughter.

Ron and Harry both thoroughly enjoyed their conversation together before the very busy day ahead of them. Hermione had slipped in, announcing that Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey were having a meeting in the office outside the ward. They knew their time alone was almost over, so they quickly filled Hermione in on their discussion. Hermione stunned them both by agreeing that, even though no book ever written could confirm it's existance, she believed Cloverhouse had exsisted. Usually, Hermione had to have absolute documented evidence to believe anything. Ron had at least spared Harry the similarity between himself and the dragon's child, but somehow, Hermione brought up the subject without making Harry feel awkward.

Hermione wanted to establish search teams within the DA to find evidence of a Cloverhouse Residence and clues as to what had become of them, if in fact they had ever existed at all previous to this year. Harry almost felt like he had something to look forward to, but now there was another pressing matter on his mind. How was Sashu? He couldn't or wouldn't admit out loud that he missed her terribly. Ron was just about to tell Hermione about Harry's newly acquired talent, fire breathing.

"Hermione, you'll never guess what Harry picked up in that dragon's nest!" he began excitedly, at which point Hermione glanced at Harry's face, fearing a case of dragon's pox.

Relieved to see none she asked, "What's that Harry?" Hermione was always a fan of learning, especially if it would further them in their fight against Voldemort, or even just help them with their studies. She was eager to learn of Harry's new talents. Harry had to admit that one of the main reasons he wasn't going to tell Hermione about the fire breathing, was that she would force him to practice until he could do more than just throw sparks or small streams of fire. She would haunt him day and night until he had become a human flame thrower.

"That's just laziness, mate. I'll make you practice that one too," Ron scolded playfully, as if reading Harry's mind. "That'll come in handy that will."

"What, what did he learn?" Hermione begged, still in the dark.

"Well, I think I can blow flames now like Sashu."

"You named it Sashu?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I didn't...her..." Harry corrected. "Tyler named her Sashu. He says it's her name."

"Well, Harry, I don't think you should go practising that one yet, at least until you're better. Flames require fuel and you need all of your energy for getting well," Hermione cautioned, to Harry's complete astonishment. Besides, these things are usually instinctive, not learned anyway," she said knowingly. Trust Hermione to know these things.

Madam Pomfrey arrived with Professor Snape, and both seemed surprised to find Harry awake talking with his friends. By both of their accounts, Harry was doing exceedingly well compared to the shape they figured he should be in.

After a thorough examination, Harry was delighted to hear that he would be allowed to begin rehabilitation in a week's time. This was the news he'd hoped for in all these weeks. The week more of bed rest was more then filled with anticipation and seemed the hardest to just lie there. Harry suspected that with all of the check ups this week, they were expecting some sort of relapse, but the day finally arrived. Harry would get out of this bed prison for once and stand on his own two feet, at least he hoped nervously.

Harry really wished he could be alone for his first attempt at walking, but he didn't have the heart to ask Hermione, Dobby and the Weasleys to leave. Dobby had replaced Harry's walk socks with Madam Pomfrey's approval, and as a result, Harry was able walk across a small portion of the room between two support bars. It was a better attempt than even he had expected, though his legs shook with the effort. He sat down heavily in his magic chair, pleased that he had been successful. Everyone clapped to his greatest embarrassment and happiness.

"It doesn't work that way, Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey tried to sound patient but resolute. "You have to recover your strength slowly at first. You cannot practice all day, and I'm afraid," she told him, trying not to discourage him, "that without your friend Dobby's walk socks, you would not have found your first time back on your feet so easy." Seeing the disappointment in Harry's face, she told him further, "To have come through all that you have being able to stand at all, is more than most people could accomplish. You are very strong indeed."

Despite her words, Harry was determined to expedite his recovery. When Ron came to his side to help him back onto his bed, Harry waved him away. "Let me try it Ron." His arms shook as he hoisted himself up without the help of Dobby's walk socks. Madam Pomfrey was right. There wasn't much strength left in his legs, or balance. Ron took Harry under his arms as he almost fell. Once he was upright again, Harry told him to let him to let him try again.

It was more of a controlled flop than a graceful sit onto the bed, but he'd done it. Ron and Hermione felt proud, that despite the obvious pain he'd endured for over a month, Harry still had a strong will.

After yet another examination, Harry waited for the Matron to leave before getting right to his point. "Well, what about it then?' he asked looking like he'd just had an exhausting workout.

"What about what?" Ron asked evenly, knowing what was coming next.

"Walking practice. You promised me before...before the attack."

"Oh Harry , you still want to hold us to that, after all you've been through?" Hermione sounded like she was backing out, but before she could bless them all with her words of wisdom, Ron ruined her prepared speech for just this occasion.

"Well, we did promise you mate." Ron said, resigned to keep his promise. They had lied to him too many times this year already.

"Tonight then?" Harry eagerly half asked, half told them.

"Oh, alright," Hermione conceded. She and Ron still had not joined regular classes, and Hermione at least had knocked off all of her school work in about three hours, and without distractions, Ron usually finished his, including homework, in about five. Harry wondered again, with distress, if he was going to fail this year. No one had mentioned his lessons. The thought of not going on with Ron and Hermione was yet another burden on him.

Fred and George snuck down to the Hospital Wing around midnight to help set up for Harry's walking lessons. Harry had purposely spit out his potions this evening, so he could be alert for his practice, something he told no one about, as no one would approve, not even the twins, who were all for rule bending. The twins easily set up the bars for Harry, who just had an idea, "I just need one walk sock, then my other leg can bear weight and get strong. I'll switch halfway." No one thought this was a good idea, but Harry had an air of authority that could not be matched tonight. He seemed more clear headed, but none of them had suspected for a minute that it was because he had forgone all of his potions. He endured silently the pain that the potions would have combatted.

It was more like a limp than a walk, but Hermione was delighted when Harry put his left foot down, sockless, and his leg did not buckle. Harry was sweating like he was running a marathon by the fourth trip down the bars. Fred switched socks for him, concerned that he was way overdoing it, and they were all immensely pleased that Harry's right leg appeared stronger than his left.

Ron and Hermione were very grateful to have the twins there. They felt certain that Harry wouldn't have agreed to stop without their older influence, even though they were usually the pranksters. "Okay, Harry, that's enough for tonight," George told him without room for negotiation. They hid the bars as Harry reluctantly got back into his bed. He wouldn't admit that he was drained and hurting. His muscles contracted painfully in his long unused legs, and he closed his eyes bravely. He knew that they would not let him continue these secret practices if they thought for one minute that they could be causing damage.

"Maybe we can get you something else for the pain," Ron said sympathetically, not knowing Harry had spit his pain medication out after Madam Pomfry had left. Harry was now in agony.

"No! If you tell Madam Pomfrey, she'll know and she'll be in here all night. I just need to rest, that's all."

As they all watched Harry, they knew something was different. He should have been calmed by now, after a half an hour. Hermione had warmed his blankets to fight off the muscle spasms, but Harry's eyes were now glossy with the pain in his back, and he took deep breaths with every spasm and than held his breath waiting for it to stop.

Now it was Ron's turn to call the shots. "Right than, if this doesn't let up in fifteen more minutes, I'm calling Madam Pomfrey in." Harry knew Ron was serious, and he really couldn't argue, but he wanted more then ever just to be left alone. He would not forgo his medicines for walking lessons again, even though they did make him a slight bit drowsy, it was worth it. Harry knew he could get through the night if he could just empty his mind and go to sleep, so he took this time to practice clearing his mind for his later Occlumency lessons, which he knew he would have to take. He slowed his breathing and concentrated on slowing down his muscles. Eventually, he fell into an uneasy sleep and everyone except Ron slipped out. Ron took a look at Harry in the dark, and though he had a lot of pain evident on his sleeping face, Ron felt that Harry did look a lot better.

In the morning when Madam Pomfrey came in to check on him, Harry could have kissed her when she gave him his pain medication. "Mr Potter, if you are in pain through the night, you may ring the bell at your bedside, that is what it is for," she reminded him. "Bravery is not necessary here, Harry. Everyone knows you have it in spades." Harry liked the compliment, and he sank back onto his pillows in relief as the potion took effect. Ron seemed as relieved as he was. It was hard to watch your best friend in pain.

Harry had never been able to accept comfort well. He remembered vividly the nights in Privet Drive as a child. The nights when Aunt Petunia had held Dudley cradled in her arms when both he and Dudley had had ear infections. So as not to be charged with child abuse, the Dursleys had grudgingly taken Harry to the doctor as well. Although he received his medicine, it was Dudley who'd gotten the comfort, the treats, the extra toys. Dudley had even stolen Harry's lollipop from the doctor as they left the office, causing him to scream in sorrow and get a smack for making too much noise and hurting poor Dudley's ears. Dudley had warm hot water bottles placed on his ears while Harry was left to cry in his little bed, eventually stopping, to rock himself back and forth for comfort, realizing that crying did no good. He just wasn't used to being cared for as intensely as everyone seemed to be doing now.

Knowing that Harry would not wake her unless he felt like he was dying, Madam Pomfrey said kindly, "Okay tough guy, look, I'm going to leave these tablets here in your bedside table. If you hurt in the night, you can take two, but if they don't work, you must promise to call me. You may need something stonger and I'll have to examine you to find out what is hurting." As she looked at him with sympathy, he wondered what it would have been like to have had someone care for him like this when he was a small child. All those times Uncle Vernon had made the skin on his back raw from his belt, when they hadn't noticed he had sustained a concussion from a particularly bad bullying incident led by Dudley, even though plainly, the child had come home with the pupils the size of dimes.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." He touched her hand. He hadn't properly thanked her for her care yet.

She smiled, a little unused to gratitude, and said, "Walking lessons right after you've had something to eat.

It was hard to pretend he had not practised last night. It was Saturday so everyone gathered to watch his progress. Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood had come to the Hospital Wing for a visit. Although Neville had significantly improved in his magical abilities and was on the whole a stronger person, he still found it unnerving to watch, what he considered a most powerful wizard, Harry Potter himself, struggle to walk.

Despite his fitful sleep, Harry did slightly better than yesterday, even with a whole audience. He really wanted a shower before visiting with anyone, but he didn't want to seem rude.

"Harry, you'll be up and about in no time!" Luna, whose voice tone didn't change much from the dreamy, almost absent one she usually had, was absolutely delighted for him. "Here," she said, thrusting a small vial inside a velvet pouch into his hand. This is derived from a Rejuvenation Plant. It's new. The manufacturers of it have given free samples to all the staff at the Quibbler, my dad's newspaper," she reminded him. "Good publicity, you know. St. Mungos got some as a donation, and they're conducting research right now to see it's fit for human consumption."

Harry just stared at her. "Dad just sent it this morning. The Editor of the Health Section of the Quibbler says it's perfectly safe. See," she said, pointing to a crumpled up piece of clipping from the Quibbler. "Used with strong will, this rejuvenating potion will heal almost any injury in half the time," she read to him happily from the label. "Of course dad had it ready to send when everyone else still thought you were dead." She shook her head as much as if to say, "who would have believed such nonsense?"

"Oh...well...thanks Luna. I'll er...give it a shot later," Harry loosely promised, but thought it was a nice gesture on Luna's part. Harry had no intentions whatsoever of taking anything that hadn't been proven safe yet. Maybe a few weeks ago, when he couldn't see the light at the end of the dark tunnel, he would have grasped at any straw offered, but he didn't want to set himself back again.

No one wanted to burst Luna's bubble. She was so much happier than the last time they'd seen her, when she had been crying because someone had stolen her diary during the start of term feast.

"Luna," Hermione asked kindly, "did you ever get your diary back?"

"No," Luna replied apprehensively. Hermione didn't press further, not wanting to spoil the visit. Ginny had asked anyone from Luna's house to be on the lookout for the diary. She didn't know Luna very well, but she had six older brothers constantly taking her private things, and she would know how it felt to have personal thoughts let out to people, because it was bad enough within a family, let alone a whole school. Ginny was the only one who really understood that Harry needed some privacy that he wasn't getting, to test out his abilities. Ginny knew he was very proud, so she studied for her O.W.L.S. while he did this, and was left out of the private lessons. For some reason, though only a year younger, she was still treated like Ron's little sister for the most part, but Harry found himself longing for her reassuring presense. She never pushed, but nor would she let him slack.

"Harry, when can you come back to the dorms?" Neville asked. He did not know about the Telephotus Dreams, that although they had stopped completely, still posed a significant threat, should they start again. Harry remembered that Dumbledore had devised a plan whereby an alarm would sound every time his blood pressure rose to indicate fright while he slept, waking him up and saving Ron and Hermione too. No one would know that the alarm was for any other purpose than medical.

"As soon as Madam Pomfrey lets me go," Harry answered simply, and he wondered when that would be himself. Everyone was so protective. Harry couldn't help but stare at Neville, wondering if he knew just how close he had come to being the one whom the prophecy had revealed as Voldemort's most sought after enemy. Their eyes met. Had Neville any idea at all that he'd missed being marked by the Dark Lord as his equal, to be hunted 'til the day he died? Harry had seen no signs from Neville that the boy knew anything at all about it. Recently though, Neville had improved greatly in his magical abilities and overall fitness, but unfortunately, not his memory.

As Harry looked thoughtfully at his friend Neville, he now wondered if Neville's memory had been somehow damaged when his parents had been attacked by the Death Eaters led by Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry now knew that Neville's new nose-to-the-grindstone resolution had been brought out when he'd seen this same witch, Bellatrix Lestrange, who'd permanently incapacitated his parents, kill Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black at the Ministry of Magic last summer.

"Ron, Hermione, I need to talk to you about something later," Neville said quietly, while Luna was trying to convince Harry to take some of her potion gift, and he figured he couldn't hear the request, but Harry had heard, and he made a mental note to ask them about it later. Harry felt that since Neville had dodged the prophecy, he should have the right to know what Neville wanted to talk to Ron and Hermione about in secret.

Harry had to admit, although trying to fight the shame that came with his feelings as he looked at Neville, that part of him was extremely jealous of Neville. As far as Dumbledore had told Harry last year, a boy born at the end of July, whose parents had thrice thwarted the Dark Lord, would be marked as Voldemort's equal, and would be killed by, or would have to kill Voldemort, for one could not truly live while the other remained. Both Harry's and Neville's parents had fought against Voldemort three times, and both of their sons had been born at the end of July. Harry's parents had been killed, and Harry had been marked with the scar on his forehead where Voldemort had tried, but failed to kill him, thus marking him as his equal, doomed to living a life of strife, fighting until the prophecy, which was still not known in full by the dark lord, was fulfilled. Neville's parents had been attacked as well, by By Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband. Harry's parents had been killed by Voldemort himself, and had been left a bodiless weak force lying in wait to be reborn one day to reek revenge on their child, who had somehow lost Voldemort his powers. The Longbottoms had been left permanently damages by being placed under the Cruciatus Curse for so long and now resided in St Mungos, leaving Neville without parents in a different way. For a fleeting moment Harry felt it must surely have all been a mistake. Neville was Voldemort's equal. Maybe he'd just come out of the attack unscathed, but Harry came back to the harsh reality, that Voldemort wouldn't have been so intent upon killing him all Summer and Fall if Neville had been the chosen one.

Harry had daydreamed for so long, picturing Neville as Voldemort's arch enemy, that everyone assumed that he must have been very tired from his walking rehabilitation. Harry now realized that he'd never even asked Neville, what, if anything he knew about the prophecy. He wondered why Dumbledore had never told Neville of his narrow escape. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted Neville to know. It was bad enough that he had to live this nightmare and besides, Neville hadn't had much of a life either, and with Neville's new found seemingly endless loyalty to Harry, he would surely die beside he Ron and Hermione anyway. Harry was sadly sure of this. Neville had, after all, proven his loyalty fighting beside them at the Ministry against the Death Eaters.. When it came down to the last battle, Neville would be only slightly better off than Harry if they fought as closely as they had done than.

Harry was relieved of his momentary grudge against Neville. It had felt uncomfortable in his stomach, and he was glad to let it go. Looking at Neville again, free of the green monster that was jealousy, Harry asked him now, taking in his slightly crooked nose from having been kicked by a large Death Eater, "did your nose and cheek bone heal okay, Neville?"

"Yeah, no problems at all." Neville felt guilty himself, saying this while Harry had suffered so much for long.

"Good...good." This was an awkward moment for the both of them.

"Well, we'll likely see you at the next DA meeting Harry. We really can't do much without you but practice what you already taught us."

"Next meeting...wait a minute...You've been meeting without me?" Harry asked, half sadly, half angry.

"Yes...well Harry, we had an emergency meeting to rescue you, mate," Ron explained, desperately hoping that Harry wouldn't be mad about subsequent meetings without him.

"And then we decided we needed to start practising our Defensive Spells, so we had another two meetings last week," Hermione admitted. "We just wanted to be as good as where we left off for when you came back to teach us."

"Who's teaching now?" Harry asked cooly. He had no idea why he was so angry, except the fact that no one had bothered to invite him. There were of course obvious reasons for this, but before they could explain, Harry went off like an explosion.

"Okay...I get it...I'm not good for anything anymore! It wasn't me who's had to fight Voldemort all these years. It wasn't me who had my butt kicked into this glorified wheelchair, but look...you know what they say...those who can, do. Those who can't, teach, so since I can't do anymore, maybe I can teach...oh no wait a minute, I forgot, you don't need me anymore!"

Harry was as angry as they'd ever seen him. Today, he had also found out that the people who had kidnapped him, had not been sent to Azkaban due to the Dementor defection and their young age, and the provision in the wizarding laws designed for young offenders, who were not to be placed in places like Azkaban. They were to be rehabilitated, and Dumbledore, whom Harry had only just begun to forgive for his having kept secrets from him, had agreed to keep the criminals after the Tribunal from the Ministry had pronounced them guilty of all charges levied against them. The parents of the kidnappers, obviously Death Eaters, had not been caught. Harry was the one in prison.

Harry had kept his peace upon learning that the kidnappers still resided in the castle. He had kept his peace when on three nights in a row this week, Fred and George had stopped the walking lessons midway, just because he'd fallen a few times. He had held his peace when he learned that Ginny had been put through rather harsh questioning from the Tribunal about her knowledge of the kidnapping. If not just for Ginny, who'd come back slightly on edge, but feeling better to have it over with. He could hold his peace no longer.

"Harry...we're sorry," Neville said, devastated.

"Listen, Neville, maybe you should take over. It should've been you anyway! It should have been you!" Harry pointed to him angrily, leaving Neville wondering what in the world Harry was talking about. Harry didn't regret the pained look on Neville's face. He'd had way more than his fair share. The weeks practically chained to a bed in agony were taking their toll on Harry finally. He thought he was handling it alright until now, but thinking of the prophecy and all that Voldemort had taken from him, he couldn't handle it anymore.

Harry had just been given a set of intricately carved crutches today, and had never used them before. He stood defiantly to meet Neville's eyes on a face to face level, and then began to clumsily make his way back to his room, away from them, but the dramatic exit was ruined by the slow walk. Ron and Hermione knew only part of the prophecy, in which Voldemort or Harry must die at the hands of the other, but they knew nothing of Neville's narrow escape from being chosen as Voldemort's equal. In fact, Neville hadn't really ever spoken of himself much. Harry would never have known that Neville's birth date was the same as his, and they'd only found out about his parents being in St Mungos permanently, unable to raise him, because they'd accidentally found themselves face to face in the Longbottom's wing one Christmas while Neville had been visiting them with his Gran. Harry tried to remind himself that Neville would have no way of knowing about the prophecy which he assumed had been lost when it had broken at the Ministry last year.

Harry wasn't yet strong enough to use the crutches. He fell heavily to the cold stone floor, the crutches clattering noisily to the floor. Ron, Hermione Neville and Luna all ran to him, lumps in their throats, knowing, or at least hoping, that Harry had only been venting his frustration of having been cooped up for so long.

"Please, just leave me alone." Harry didn't sound angry anymore, just like he'd finally given up. He felt there was no justice in the world, and no one present could argue with him. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry yelled, yanking his arms out Ron and Neville's grasp. "Why don't you go and have another meeting. You can talk about how the famous Harry Potter's finally popped his clogs!" he finished bitterly. Some minuscule part of him that still felt like Harry, felt bad seeing Neville stand up to leave, glassy eyed. He knew deep down, that Neville hadn't chosen his life either. He hadn't chose to have his parents permanently incapacitated by the Death Eaters anymore than Harry had chosen for his parents to die. But the bitter, fed up, angry Harry , still held onto the resentment that if there had been a choice, why was it him and not Neville? Why had they met behind his back?

"That was mean Harry, we were just..." Hermione began.

"Uncalled for, Harry," Ron added, as Neville blanket apologized for something he had no idea of what he'd done to make Harry so angry. Neville had never seen Harry attack someone so viciously before, not even Draco Malfoy had faired so badly in an argument before...was this an argument? He wondered what, besides the secret DA meetings, had set him off like a firecracker. He knew it had to be a personal grudge against him, but why? Neville splashed some cool water on his face, saw Luna back to the Great Hall, and set off to talk to the Headmaster. What had Harry meant when he told him it should have been him?


	27. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU

A/N Hello everyone! Author alerts did not go out for chapter 24 of this story and as a result, many people have found chapter 25 rather confusing. If this is the case, please, if you can, read chapter 24 If you missed it as everything will make sense then.

Thanks so much for the reviews! They mean the world to me! Nickle Nerd, are you still there? If you are reading this, please take a moment to leave a review if you can, even a short one, it makes things so much more fun and is very encouraging. Happy reading! HUGS!

"Can we help you, or are you just gonna sit there all day?" Ron asked, wanting to be cross with Harry for his accusation against Neville, but not quite able to bring himself to actually yell at him. Ron and Hermione remembered with a shiver the day Dumbledore had finally told them of the prophecy, but it was up to Harry to decide if anyone but himself would ever know of the other boy who had escaped the fate of the prophecy and it's wicked intentions.

Neville stood there blinking like an owl, with no idea what Harry was talking about when he had screamed at him that it should have been him. For the way he felt, Neville would have preferred a Stinging Hex than Harry's bitter words and the look of absolute hatred and hopeless despair with which they were said. He swallowed hard and offered his hand to Harry to help him up, but Harry would not meet his eyes. Harry choked back a sob as he mustered his inner turmoil into words, and even as he said them, though he meant every word, it hurt him to hear them come from his mouth...no, his soul.

"Look, why don't you just go to your little meeting with your fearless leader!" Harry's face was not the same when contorted in anger. His handsome features were diminished by his current behaviour, and at the moment, the only part of Harry that was truly his own, were the tears that shone in his green eyes. The two and a half months of pain and slow recovery had finally taken their predicted toll on Harry.

Ron could not believe his ears when he heard Hermione yell at Harry, "Fine, we're leaving. Are you sure you don't want help?" Harry just glared at her.

"Hermione!" Ron whispered, "We can't just leave him here. Something's really really wrong with him."

"We can, and we are Ron," she whispered back. "Remember Madam Pomfrey warned us that Harry would be angry and frustrated sometimes? Just give him some space. He's being smothered in here. He's got no control over anything. Finding out we met without him must have felt awful...like we didn't need him anymore. We should at least have had him plan the lesson for us on paper, or taken him along in his chair," she realized with regret.

"And leaving him here on the floor is going to help him how?" Ron demanded.

"He knows if we leave, we believe he can get up and get into his room on his own, even if he can't. If we show some faith in him, maybe he'll forgive us, and than there's this... This isn't Harry's fault, we know that, but he's not going to have any friends left if he keeps treating them like that. What he said to Neville was horrible. He'll be lucky if Neville ever forgives him. That was uncalled for. Hermione knew that Harry had every right to be frustrated, but she didn't know that he had more right than anyone would ever know regarding Neville to feel jealous and cheated.

Ron grudgingly bowed to Hermione's usual superior knowledge on psychology, but he felt terrible leaving his best friend on the floor. They went just out of Harry's sight, to Ron's immense relief. They stayed close enough to help Harry if he finally asked for it, or if he got hurt trying to get up on his own. Fred and George came by, stunned to see Harry on the floor with his two best friends standing outside refusing to help him. They were informed of what Harry had said and done.

"He said what!" Fred exclaimed.

"He's been acting like a git all week. When he falls, he's had enough, we're only trying to help. He can't seriously blame us for stopping the exercises when he falls," George said hotly, not knowing, that out of all of Harry's pent up frustrations, this one part, was insignificant compared to how he felt about Neville Longbottom.

Harry didn't know why it had taken him so long to resent Neville for having been spared being hunted all his life by Voldemort. He'd seen him when he'd visited at St Mungos and had been happy for the company, and he'd known about the prophecy then too. As he sat on the floor, he realized that he was not only jealous that Neville had not been chosen, but that Neville had not had to live with so much as the horrible knowledge that he'd been considered and passed over as Voldemort's equal by Voldemort himself. He wondered if it wasn't time for Neville to be informed of his own legacy.

Before Ron and Hermione had a chance to stop them, Fred and George decided to dole out some psychology of their own. "Okay Harry, spill it," Fred ordered, entering the ward. "What's this all about?"

"Stop trying to be my big brothers!" Harry spat angrily, knowing that they too, had attended the meetings. "I don't have to share my feelings! I don't have any feelings! I'm just...I just want to be alone!" At first, Fred was moved to pity. He understood at least a little, how he would feel if he had to endure even one tenth of the agony Harry had endured, but looking at George, they seized Harry roughly to his feet, and then, wands drawn, they turned him upside-down, and he flew quickly, but gently onto his bed.

"Okay, you little git. We understand that you felt left out, and you can dismiss us as brothers, but blood or no, you don't leave a family that easily. Ron's been beating his head against a brick wall to keep you safe and not bored stiff here, and he's never felt like complaining, not once. He's our brother too and you won't keep making him and everyone else feel guilty for a couple of DA meetings, which we may remind you, are for your protection too," George scolded him harshly. And Ginny's more than stuck her neck out for you too, so don't start on her when you see her next," he added.

"And you better talk to Neville, too," Fred added, though he was gently getting Harry situated into his bed properly as he spoke, only now feeling how thin the boy had gotten over the summer.

"What's the meaning of this?" Madam Pomfrey shouted, having just seen the twins harsh treatment of her patient upon coming out of her office. She tried to open Harry's door, which Harry had sealed shut so they would have time for their 'brotherly advice.'

"Harry, we're here for the long haul whether you like it or not, and if we, or anyone else who cares for you makes a mistake once in awhile, you're just gonna have to live with it, and if we have anything to say about it, you'll be living for a long long time. That's why we're practising. That's why everyone's so determined." George was fluffing Harry's pillows up and laying him gently back, which didn't match his harsh words. Madam Pomfrey finally broke into the room.

Harry cleared his throat, glaring at the twins. "Er...I was trying to get back to my room by myself by using a Glide Charm. I guess I'd forgotten how to do it, because Fred and George here..." he looked at them, trying not to look angry, "had to right me and help me back in here." he lied further through clenched teeth. The door's been sticking all day. Maybe Filch should see to it," he finished convincingly.

"Remember what we said little brother," George told him, laying his hand on Harry's shoulder. "And by the way, this came for you today. Mom asked us to bring it to you. Poor Errol delivered it last night." The twins left, leaving a frazzled Madam Pomfrey with no choice but to believe Harry in regards to what had just happened. The small Package lay unopened on his bedside table.

Ron was severely mad. When the twins reached the corridor where they had waited, he rounded on them at once. "Are you mad or something! You could have really hurt him. He didn't deserve that."

"Listen Ron, if that was you in there, we'd have done the exact same thing ," Fred told him. "Until Harry's all together well, he's just going to have to accept that we need to protect him."

'I just don't understand why he took it all out on Neville, though," George mused.

"Maybe because he knew you two goons would punish him if he tried it with you," Ron returned, still steamed.

"We only did it for his own good," George reminded him again. Hermione said nothing all through the brothers discussions until Madam Pomfrey left Harry's room, closing the door gently behind her, checking the doorknob again and again to make sure it opened properly, and shaking her head.

"Do you think we should check in on him?" She asked, already taking a few tentative steps toward his door.

"No Hermione, maybe he just needs some time. He's probably really tired from all the extra exercise. He's been down for a long time. He can't expect to get up overnight," Fred advised.

"Besides, he's had people in his face ever since he woke up at St Mungos. Just let him be," George told him, putting his arm around Ron's slumped shoulders and suggesting they go out for a walk around the lake. Ron wanted to say no. He'd almost sit outside Harry's door until Harry wanted to talk, but he grudgingly left the school, taking his concerns outside with him.

What they saw when they reached the lake made them furious. There were Harry's kidnappers, out in the fresh air, enjoying the last of the summer like weather, a summer Harry had missed, while he lay upstairs in the Hospital Wing like a prisoner in his bed, a bed these people had kept him in longer.

The Weasleys and Hermione felt utterly betrayed when they saw Professor Lupin was out with them. "WHAT...ARE...THESE...SCUM...DOING OUT HERE!" Ron breathed, one syllable at a time. It was not the first time they had suspected poor Lupin of helping the enemy, when it had been nothing of the sort.

"It is the law, Ron, one hour of fresh air a day," Lupin replied in an apologetic tone. Professor Dumbledore is following the letter of the law."

"Funny time for him to start that," Ron said angrily.

"And what about Harry?" Hermione piped in. "Had he had any fresh air, for almost three months now. NO, he's lucky to be breathing at all!" Hermione's indignance was evident as she directed her wrath toward the prisoners.

Lupin raised his wand and placed a silencing charm around them. "Look you four, I know this is more than unfair, but if we don't follow the protocol of the of the Ministry Of Justice to the letter, these prisoners will be transferred to a wizarding facility where they may have the sympathy of the other inmates. They could escape. Azkaban is still under reorganization. We need these students here. Dumbledore has plans for them."

"Plans to what?" Ron continued, "rehabilitate them!" He had been joking but the look in Lupin's eyes betrayed him.

"As to that I do not know," Lupin sighed.

"Well, I'll just be having a chat with the headmaster." Ron informed him. There had been enough misplaced anger for one day, and he knew that Lupin was only doing his job, but Dumbledore had gone too far in his charity this time.

"Ron, if you really are going to talk to Professor Dumbledore at least cool down a bit first," Hermione pleaded. "Let's have that walk by the lake first." Ron reluctantly agreed to continue the walk, but even if he had marched straight to Dumbleodre's office, he would have found the headmaster was otherwise engaged.

Neville had pleaded with Professor McGonagall to take him to see the headmaster right away. At first she had declined, knowing that he was very busy, and offering to help him herself, but when she became aware of how truly upset the boy was, she consented to take him to Dumbledore's office.

"Sherbert Lemon." She gave the password and led Neville to the revolving staircase once the stone gargoyle had leapt out of the way. Neville had never fully appreciated the magnificence of Dumbleodore's office when Harry had described it to him. Had he not set his mind entirely upon what it was he wanted to talk to the headmaster about, he would have, with his memory as shoddy as it was, forgotten why he'd come here in the first place.

"Fawkes?" Neville asked, in a awed voice, as he took in the huge phoenix's majesty. The fully plumed phoenix looked benignly down at him from atop his perch.

"Mr. Longbottom, Professor McGonagall informs me that you wish to speak to me. I trust you are well?" Dumbledore asked with concern. Neville had never asked to speak with him before, and even now felt uneasy being here to ask what he had to know.

"Yes sir," Neville replied nervously, his blue eyes standing out rather larger than normal.

"Please sit down, Neville. I was about to have some hot chocolate. Would you care to join me?" Two cups of steaming hot chocolate with marshmallows appeared next to a tray laden with biscuits. Neville could never imagined himself sitting drinking hot chocolate with Professor Dumbledore in his study no less, in a month of Sundays, and at first he just sat nervously drinking the hot chocolate.

"What brings you here, Neville?" Professor Dumbledore asked, losing the formality of Mr Longbottom in the privacy of his own quarters, and fearing what he was about to hear. Sure enough it happened, like he always knew it would. After telling Harry, Dumbledore knew it would only be a matter of time before the other candidate connected to the prophecy would find out about his past. He was relieved to find that Harry had not told Neville, for Dumbledore knew in his heart that this duty rested squarely with him. For the second time in half a year, Dumbledore had to relate to a boy who he still felt was too young to hear all about the horrible prophecy that had been made over sixteen years ago. Dumbledore had let Neville lead him into the conversation just in case this visit had nothing to do with the prophecy at all, but when Neville sadly related to him the tale of how Harry had yelled at him in anguish, saying, _'it should have been you,'_ Dumbledore knew the time had come.

Neville had, of course known that his parents had been aurors and that both of them had been tortured into permanent incapacitation, but he did not know that they had belonged to an organization called the Order Of The Phoenix with Harry's parents. When Dumbldore had rubbed his eyes and told Neville of the prophecy, particularly where it pertained to the boy being born at the end of July being marked as his equal after his parents had thwarted Voldmort three times, he had to remind the ever forgetful Neville, that he and Harry shared the same birth date. Neville turned a sickly green tinge, realizing for the first time ever what everything Harry had said meant. He could have been the one marked by the dark lord, but somehow, he hadn't been chosen. Neville's relief mixed with his guilt in the pit of his stomach, and he threw up into a beautiful basin on a shelf in Dumbledore's study.

"Sorry, sir," Neville wretched, holding the pensieve tightly. Dumbledore handed him some potion which settled his stomach but not his nerves, and now he was going to learn something about himself that no one had ever told him. On the night his parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom had been attacked at their home, a one year old boy named Neville had been sleeping peacefully in his canopied crib. The child awoke crying, afraid of the noises from the floor below... his parents screams.

Voldemort had been extinguished to a mere existence, on the night the Potters had been killed, and the Lestranges, his most loyal servants had come to the aurors home to find out what had happened on that fateful night. After torturing the Longbottoms with the Cruciatus Curse until they lost their minds, the sinister woman climbed the stairs. She raised her wand to strike the child, but suddenly a voice pierced the now silent house. "Bellatrix my love, it's gone awry, retreat! retreat! With no time for a killing curse, which the young witch had yet to master, she mercilessly shot the child with an Obliviating Curse, making sure that even though he was only a year old, he'd have no memories whatsoever of his parents before they were reduced to almost catatonic like states. Bellatrix had thought of stealing the child as ransom in case they were caught, but with word of the murder of the Potters, there were just too many hit wizards about to pull it off.

"How do you know all of this?" Neville asked, though thickly choked with emotion.

"Sirius Black was in Azkaban with the Lestanges, Neville. They bragged about their conquests. They never denied being Death Eaters like most had tried to do."

"But...I know Harry had an attachment to that man Sirius, but why, at the time, would you believe him? He was a criminal." Dumbledore now explained to Neville, that Harry's Godfather Sirius Black, had been framed and had never committed the murders he'd been convicted of without trial. Neville who had so admired Harry all these years, now felt even sorrier for him. At least Neville had his Gran.

"So...he was good to Harry than?" Neville asked in reference to Harry's late Godfather.

"Yes, Neville, for a fleeting moment Harry had a chance for a happy life in a home where he would be loved." Neville had never really had what you could call a happy life, but at least it had been a safe and secure one, with his Grandmother scolding him often. Neville suddenly put it together, the reason he was always getting yelled at, the reason he always forgot everything, the reason he wasn't the best at school...the forgetfulness... Dumbledore gazed at him, his square spectacles on his nose.

"Yes, Neville,"Dumbledore confirmed, "The Obliviate Curse thrown at you at such a tender age did damage your memory permanently. It was feared at first when Sirius Black rescued your family from their home and brought you to St. Mungos, that you had suffered as cruelly as your parents but as the months went by, you showed some signs of improvement. Your grandmother came and rocked you in her arms every day, even though the Mediwizards told her that it was very likely that you could not hear her. When she took you to live with her, she was warned that you were beyond much help, that perhaps you would be better off in the brain injury wing of St Mungos as a permanent resident. She would not hear of it. She wrote to me from time to time throughout the years for information on admission requirements to Hogwarts. She pushed you Neville, every day. I knew this. When you were nine, she wrote to the school to remind us not to forget about you, and that she'd given you a wand...your father's wand to be exact, against the strict instructions of the Healers at St Mungos, for they feared that you couldn't handle it as fragile as you were mistaken to have been."

Neville had cherished his father's wand which had been destroyed at the battle at the Ministry last year in Harry's defence. No auror could be more proud than to have had his wand used by his own son to assist Harry Potter, though Mr Longbottom would never know of it. Neville wiped tears from his eyes.

Neville had not known until now that his name had been included on a list made by Healers at St Mungos, which prohibited possession and use of a wand. Indeed until Neville was twelve years old, his picture had hung at Ollivander's Wand shop barring him from purchasing a wand. Gran had taken her chances breaking the ban by presenting Neville with his father's old wand when he had shown his first magical ability on the day he had survived being accidentally dropped out the window by his uncle. Dumbledore likewise turned a blind eye to the fact that Neville arrived with a wand at school at the age of eleven.

Dumbledore continued. "Still your Grandmother pressed on with your wand training despite burnt curtains, dead singed gardens, an infestation of flying mice and even more plagues from your mistakes. She worked you until you were nearly off your feet sometimes. She would write to me on tear stained parchment, asking me if she should just let you be, or keep at you. It was very difficult for her to be stern but she grew into it."_ And how!_ thought Neville. With this look from Neville, Dumbldore had to agree, "Yes maybe too much so, but she wanted a good life for you. With your parents unable to care for you and with her own grief, she really did the best she could." Neville had a new found respect for his grandmother, which had surprised him. He hadn't really thought about this either. Gran had, in effect lost her son and her daughter- in- law when she had gained him.

"So I'm not stupid than," Neville suddenly realized. "I'm damaged goods. I should stay out of those meetings and as far away from Harry Potter as possible. I could get him killed with my stupidity in thinking I could be of use to the DA." Neville was now downright panicked.

"Mr Longbottom, calm yourself," Dumbledore ordered, in a voice which made Neville stop babbling.

"You are not, as you say, damaged goods. There can be no denying that your memory is not completely intact, but you are an asset to Harry, the DA, and indeed the school. You have worked harder than perhaps any student in this school to achieve an acceptable level of O.W.L.S. to continue onto your N.E.W.T.S. No one coddled you. You did it purely by hard work, sweat, and yes tears." Neville glanced up into his kind eyes. "It has been hard to watch you struggle while others excel, but you've done it, without your Grandmother standing over you."

"Well...there's alway's Hermione Granger for that," Neville recalled with a smile.

"A brilliant student," Dumbldore agreed, but Neville still had misgivings. He felt he should resign from the DA meetings. "Neville, it was you who stood beside Harry in the very face of the Death Eaters who tortured your parents and did this to you. Loyalty and bravery can make up for lack of skill due to memory lapses. You are not diminished by your impairment, because you work three times harder than anyone else to achieve your goals. Harry needs you, Neville. Don't dessert him now."

"But that's just it, Harry doesn't want me around. I only make things worse for him. Maybe it should have been me..." Neville was absolutely crushed.

"Mr Longbottom, you must remember, Harry has been damaged too, but in a different way."

"He hates me," Neville replied sadly. "And now I know why."

"He does not hate you Neville. He resents you," Dumbledore corrected, though this sounded hardly better or indeed encouraging. "It is not your fault, nor is it his, for these are not his true feelings."

"How do you know, sir? If I were Harry, I would wish in a heartbeat that someone could take my place," Neville reasoned.

"Only a very great fool wouldn't, but Harry does not really want that. He has accepted his fate, at least for the most part. He just as I said, resents you now. I suppose to him, you have come through this relatively unscathed. Harry does not know of your impairment. He sees your life as an easy one. Perhaps when you are ready, you will inform of your misfortune."

Neville did not answer this query, but instead said, "If Harry is forced to be a target of Voldemort, the least I can do is volunteer to be beside him." Neville looked Dumbledore in the eyes as a serious adult, not the child who had walked in head hanging down. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, I want to join the Order Of The Phoenix," he said firmly.

'I have no doubt, Neville, but you are not yet of the proper age to take that step," Dumbledore told him, admiring his bravery. There was a reason this boy was a Gryffindor.

"Professor Dumbledore, sometimes rules are made to be broken. I want to join now, to be Harry's security. You said I make up for my deficiencies with hard work. No one would work harder than me to keep him safe, and if you deny me entry, I'll leave school and hunt Voldemort myself if I have to. I share in the prophecy too...I've suffered too...and if I could go back to Harry and tell him you let me join, he'd see that I just want to help...he'd see..." Neville trembled with nerves as Dumbledore held up his hand to stop him with a kind of sadness on his face. As soon as Harry cooled down, he would feel ashamed of himself, and if he thought for one minute that he'd caused an innocent boy to go looking for death from Voldemort, he'd be crushed. Harry couldn't take any more of his friends sacrificing himself for him as they had done with their pledge to fight beside him to the end if necessary.

"Yes Neville, you would fight harder for him than almost anyone. I wanted you to see that... to believe it. You have nothing to feel guilty about. You and Harry are innocent victims of a war that started before you were even born." Now Neville felt bad for himself and Harry.

"I was serious, sir," Neville started again. "My parents were in the Order. I want to follow the tradition. Can't you find a loophole or something?" Having started The Order Of The Phoenix himself, Dumbledore knew a little known provision which allowed underage wizards to join in the most of direst of situations if the war had gone terribly against them and most of the senior members had all been killed, after all, everyone would perish or be made slaves if Voldemort was victorious. The war would come to ordinary households then. Looking at the solemn young man before him, no longer the round faced child who had arrived minus toad six years earlier, something stirred in the old man.

Mr Longbottom, you are to be absolutely secretive about this part of our meeting. You will think long and hard about what you have requested here today. It may be time with the war coming closer to us, to reconsider The Order Of The Phoenix. While it will remain firmly planted in the non combat duties for underage wizards, I may consider putting before Order members, a bill which would allow younger wizards to serve in a junior capacity. These junior members will however not be made privy to top secret meetings of our members as it would lead to possible combat necessity later. Do not get your hopes up. If it is agreed that a junior chapter of The Order is possible, you and select members of the DA would be made privy first. You realize, that as underage members, full parental, or guardian," Dumbledore looked at him, "Will be required to complete permission forms. That is the best I can do for now," Dumbledore sighed. When had they grown up so much?

"Thank you sir," Neville said, in such a grateful way, that Dumbledore knew that his hopes were high.

"Now, I believe there are some things you should be discussing with Mr Potter. I caution you to be very careful Mr Longbottom. Harry has heard enough lies and half truths to last a lifetime. He is kind hearted. He does not hate you. He just needs to know who you are... who you really are. You may want to include Harry's confidants in this conversation. They will be a buffer zone between you."

Neville was very nervous about seeing Harry again as it was, without being told that a buffer zone would be advisable. "I am most certain that once the two of you have talked, you will both feel much better. Let's let Harry rest for the night. No doubt Madam Pomfrey has just given him his potions," Dumbledore said, looking at his timepiece, which Neville could have sworn was a miniature sun dial. "And it couldn't hurt to take some sweets with you." Dumbledore opened the large wooded drawer of his desk and handed Neville a very large basket of Honeydukes sweets, all wrapped up with a big blue bow. Before Neville left, Dumbledore took a chocolate frog, opened it, and said, "Ah, Dumbledore again. One day I will complete my collection of these things."

"Thank you Sir," Neville said, realizing only just now that he had been in the headmaster's office for over four hours. Dumbledore had informed Neville, that since they had talked for so long partaking of the sweets, that Harry's medications would have worn off by now, and he would probably be awake, so there would be no time like the present.

When Neville went to the Hospital Wing to wait for Harry to let him in... if he even would, he was surprised to see the Weasleys and Hermione doing the same thing. They all looked like they were listening for sounds from Harry's room. It was too quiet.

Harry was still torn between apologizing for the way he'd treated his friends and being mad at them for their secret DA meetings. He knew however, that Neville had no way to change what had happened when he was an infant and he'd made up his mind that he would leave Neville in peace and not reveal to him how close he'd come to being the one chosen to have to fight Voldemort to the death. Harry also knew, that if Neville had been chosen as the one whom Voldemort would mark as his equal, he may never have made it out of Privet Drive. Harry was slipping back into bitterness, feeling that he probably would have been utterly forgotten about if he hadn't been the chosen one.

Supper came and went and the waiting friends watched a tray of food enter Harry's room and come out only picked over. "That's it, he's got to eat if he's to get well," Fred decided, entering the room first.

"I should go," Neville decided. If Harry was in this foul a temper, Neville couldn't stand an audience this large watching. It was bad enough to have to come here at all. Neville was going to back out.

"No, Neville, stay. Harry needs to see that we all agree that he needs to chill out but he also needs to see that we'll all be here for him. This isn't going to be easy for him getting back to his old self...if he can...rejoining the school...That all has to have him freaked out." Hermione would never tell Harry that she felt sorry for him, but she did.

Neville dug deep within himself to find the courage to ask them if he could speak to Harry alone. Harry decided that if Harry wished to inform his friends all that he knew later, he could, but he would give Harry the privacy and forgo the buffer zone.

"I wouldn't advise it, Neville," George told him honestly, "We took his wand before we left but he doesn't need it for everything. He might put a Balding Curse on you or something."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Hermione insisted. "Harry doesn't even know how to do a Balding Curse." At this, Fred and George exchanged significant glances. Hermione made no inquiry as to the reason for the knowing looks.

"Okay you guys, I just found out something from Professor Dumbledore that concerns Harry and I. If Harry chooses to tell you, I won't stop him, but if he does decide to tell you, I'm asking that the information stops here just among us...for now at least...please." Neville had peaked their interest. Ron and Hermione wondered what could possibly involve Neville and Harry that they wouldn't already know about, but they politely agreed to give Neville and Harry some time. They wished him good luck as he approached the door, which might as well have read, _'danger keep out.'_

"Harry? It's me...Neville," he announced nervously opening the door. Harry turned his head to face the window. The glimpse Harry had gotten of Neville's scared but determined face, had taken away any intentions he'd had of yelling at Neville, so instead he said softly but evenly, "Look Neville, I'm tired. I really don't feel like company now. Please leave."

"No," Neville replied firmly, feet planted squarely on the floor.

"What!" Harry exclaimed. Neville had never once talked back to Harry, or anyone else for that matter, except on extremely rare occasion when provoked.

"I said no," Neville confirmed again.

"Leave Neville!" Harry ordered. Harry wished that Neville would just go before he had to say something nasty, but Neville just sat down in the chair beside his bed. Harry's eyes blazed and Neville wished for all the world that he had brought at least Ron and Hermione with him, but he remained in his seat, wanting to cringe, but fighting the desire to wilt in fear. Everyone knew Harry Potter was a very powerful wizard, and was growing in magical abilities all the time despite his injuries. Neville had always admired Harry. His Gran had always brought up Harry's name when Neville was screwing up in school or in some other way. Neville had to admit that it had felt pretty darn good to point out to the strict old witch that somehow, Harry Potter was making worse grades than he was at times. Seeing Harry confined to bed like this now however, made Neville feel bad that he'd ever taken pleasure in Harry's sometimes poor marks. He could barely pass in peace, let alone with a mad dark wizard chasing him.

Neville and Harry were at an immediate impasse. If Harry could have seen himself lying there humming to drown out Neville's voice, he would have to admit that he was acting a lot like Dudley. He'd never been childish in his life, even when he was a child. He'd been brave at the hands of abuse from those who were supposed to love and protect him. He'd been brave through attacks from Voldemort, Dementors and Death Eeaters and had endured years of abuse at the hands of certain Slytherins. Being childish felt pretty good for a change. He'd never let himself indulge in petty behaviour before. He opened a book and pretended Neville wasn't there.

"It's upside-down, Harry," Neville told him miserably. He had only enough bravery to approach Harry, hoping he'd be receptive by now, but Harry's distance was making him even more nervous.

"Alright, Longbottom, what do want from me!" Harry spat, hoping Neville would say his peace and go away.

"I...I've just been to see Dumbledore," Neville blurted out and quickly added, "but I can see you're not ready to talk, so I'll just leave."

"That's right, Neville, just run away now!" Harry egged him, feeling anger rise in him. He had decided not to tell Neville. How could Dumbledore dump this on a boy as fragile as Harry somehow thought him still to be.

"I didn't run away last year when I had my face smashed in by a Death Eater. I stood beside you in the line of fire when I could've run away Potter, you selfish git!" Neville shouted at Harry and was ashamed to find that it felt good for once to be the one shouting. "I've always sensed some kind of bond between us ever since then... guess I was wrong!" Harry finally had to take full notice of Neville, who stood with his hand on the doorknob.

"I've never thanked you for that." Harry settled down and let the silence pass between them as a buffer between the hateful words.

"Harry, why didn't you tell me?" Neville dissolved into tears, partially from grief, partially because of the pent up nerves.

"I didn't know myself, did I?" Harry told him truthfully. "Maybe because Dumbledore knew I'd be a jerk about it once I found out," he admitted. "He thought I was too young to know until the end of last term."

"I'm so sorry Harry."

"It's not your fault any more than it's mine."

"Then where does that leave us?" Neville asked, almost scared to hear the answer.

"Where do you want it to leave us Neville? It was bad enough that you got hurt last year. Connecting yourself to me in any way will only get you hurt again, or killed in the end..." Neville couldn't believe that the recuperating boy who lay before him looking so fragile, was expected to continue to fight against the Dark Lord Voldemort, despite his almost deadly wounds.

"I don't know Harry," Neville said honestly . "But I want to make it right."

"It's not your fault Neville. You can't right a wrong done by someone else. It was me in the prophecy, you didn't have anything to do with it, nor did I."


	28. Accio Firebolt!

The words from Harry Potter, absolving Neville of the guilt he'd incurred upon finding out that he had once stood a very real chance of becoming the boy marked by Voldemort as his equal, washed over Neville, filling him relief that renewed his sense of duty to the-boy-who-lived. The fear he had felt in approaching Harry with the bomb of information he had learned from Dumbledore, left him and he sat on Harry's bedside, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know where this leaves us, Harry. I just want to be beside you, like Ron and Hermione."

"You can't protect me, Neville." It was unnerving to have so much devotion pledged to him as had been done since the fight at the Ministry Of Magic. It seemed all of his friends had pledged to stand beside him come what may.

"Yes, Harry. I can...at least until...you know. Besides, I have other reasons too, you know."

'I know that Neville," Harry said sympathetically, feeling that Neville made reference to his parents.

"NO... you don't Harry. You only know part of it." Neville ran a hand through his hair nervously, turning around as though he couldn't face Harry while telling him what was coming next.

"Harry...Do you think I'm stupid?" Neville asked, dreading the answer. "Tell me the truth."

"No, Neville...never," Harry responded truthfully. "Forgetful maybe..."

'Yeah," Neville said darkly. "When Neville finished the story of how Bellatrix Lestrange had put the Oblivate Curse on him as an infant, Harry found himself instinctively looking for a mark of some sort on Neville, but of course, Neville's inflictions were invisible. This would be the night when Neville Longbottom gained a whole new respect from Harry, as well as a deeper friendship, which had really happened when they had fought side by side last year.

"Neville, I think you should tell at least Ron and Hermione, and maybe Fred and George," Harry suggested, "but if you don't want to I won' t either. I think it should be your decision."

Neville got kind of a thoughful look on his face. "Well, Fred and George have always kind of teased me about my dodgy memory," he admitted.

Ron's brothers have really grown up, Neville. They're only back here this year because of me, and I know it."

The two of them talked for another half an hour, only now fully appreciating how much the other had suffered. Neville knew nothing of the abuse Harry had endured at the hands of his relatives all these years. Harry didn't know that Neville's frequent absences from classes didn't always have to do with his incompetence in getting lost when the staircases would change or something like he'd always said they did. To this day, he suffered severe migraine headaches and nightmares from the force of the Obliviate Curse Lestrange had inflicted on him when he was a baby, and had in fact spent as much time under Madam Pomfrey's care as Harry.

Neville took a deep breath and opened the door. Hermione let out an audible sigh of relief. Harry apologized profusely for his bad behaviour and was grateful that everyone was so easily forgiving, but they became slightly concerned when he asked them to sit.

When everything had been brought out into the open, Hermione hugged them both, tears in her eyes. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard!" she sobbed.

For a moment, just one fleeting moment, Ginny looked at Neville without him noticing, and found herself almost wishing... not that Neville was the chosen one, but at least that Harry was not. It was the first time she had actually heard the whole prophecy spoken out in full. Neville just looked at Ginny, knowing how it felt to be just learning of it's horror, but she would never fully appreciate what it meant to Neville, at least not for now. She too kissed them both, embracing Harry tightly. You could have heard a pin drop as each person contemplated what lay ahead.

'Neville, we never for a minute thought you were stupid, mate," George offered.

"No, look how far you've come in Defence Against The Dark Arts skills," Fred added, by way of a compliment.

"Besides, you made up look us good," Fred couldn't resist, as Neville punched him on the arm like he'd seen Ron do on many occasions.

"Half a minute," George instructed, whispering to Fred to usher him into the corridor. When the twins came back in, they made a revelation of their own. "Look Neville, we can't undo what's been done to you, but we may be able to help."

"Oh come on you guys, no tricks, not a time like this," Ron intervened with Hermione's deepest approval.

"It's not a trick," Fred informed him seriously. Neville was apprehensive to say the least.

"Well, what is it than?" Ron demanded. "Madam Pomfrey couldn't help him. St. Mungos couldn't help him, beyond healing the actual wounds. What on earth can you do?"

Fred retrieved a sixth year school book from his sack. "Why have you got a sixth year book?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

Fred turned to Harry as he referred to chapter one. "Okay Harry, a few quick questions if you please." Harry felt very on the spot, like at the start of school every year when he hadn't been allowed to study properly because of the strict rules at the Dursleys, and having no access to his school books, which until recently had been locked in the cupboard under the stairs.

"You do know I haven't been able to study for months?" Harry reminded them.

"Haven't you?" George asked seriously.

"You know I haven't...even now, no one wants me working on anything except walking and getting well." Once again, Harry was worried he would lose his year.

Ginny put her hand reassuringly on Harry's back as he sat up, having a pretty good idea of what Fred and George had done. Still...if Harry lost his year, he'd be in some of her classes...she put this selfish thought out of her head. It wasn't so bad, him being a year ahead, but leaving the school entirely a year ahead...now that was cause for concern, and she didn't even know why the mere thought of that worried her.

Harry hadn't realized that he'd leaned into Ginny's hand on his back, enjoying the warmth and forgetting about everything else for a moment. _'Maybe it wouldn't be so bad staying behind...'_ he thought, but then he sat up straighter with a fleeting glimpse into Ginny's eyes, wondering how could her mere touch could take him so far away from where he was.

"Okay Harry, chapter one, the Salem Witch trials," George began, interrupting Harry's moment of pleasure. "Who was it that enjoyed being burned so much, that she allowed herself to be caught several times?"

"Wendylyn The Weird," Harry answered immediately. The twins continued to fire question after question at Harry, who answered them as easily as rhyming off his favourite Quidditch players on any given team.

"Wow, I must have really paid attention last year, more than I thought," Harry said, almost impressing himself, then he joked. "You know what they say, if you lose something, other things kick in. Maybe I can't walk and think at the same time," he said ruefully.

"Harry, that's this year's work. That's what we're doing now." Hermione was amazed. "Did you study this?"

"You know I didn't," Harry replied, puzzled. "I've been more out of it than in until last week..."

"Yeah, and speaking of out of it, Harry," George said. "We've kind of been messing with your head while you slept or were unconscious."

"What do you mean?" Ron piped in, as Harry involuntarily checked for holes in his head. "What did you do? Mom will kill you," Ron said in awe.

"It's nothing bad Ron, and you're fine Harry, in fact better than fine," Fred informed him. Harry remained silent, going over in his head what he actually knew that he hadn't studied himself. Hermione, who was sceptical from the start, started plying Harry with questions from her books, which she had retrieved from her room.

"No...way!" She was in denial. For once, Harry knew loads more than she did, about subjects he wasn't even taking.

"Whoa! The great Hermione Granger outdone by Mr Harry Potter, read all about it!" Ron teased, as Hermione tried to hide her complete disbelief.

"What did you do to me?" Harry asked, slightly nervous.

"Sleep learning, Harry," Fred said simply.

"Sleep...what?"

"Sleep learning," George repeated. "After you were hurt, you were out cold a lot, so one day when we were doing second security detail, we started talking to you. That Muggle doctor told us we should let you hear our voices. He said familiar voices might bring you out of it. Fred even read to you from our last year's text book. We noticed your eyes moved more when we talked to you, and the Healers said your blood pressure was more normal when someone you knew was with you. So...as what usually happens when Fred and I stay up way too late...we got an idea!"

"Go on," Harry coaxed.

"Well, when we were at Grimmauld Place and mom confiscated our extendable ears for the umpteenth time, we decided to try out some Muggle tape recorders hidden in the meeting rooms to hear what was going on. Dad had two of them in the garage. Of course she found them," he remembered with a shudder.

"When we snuck downstairs to the kitchen after the meeting was over to collect it, we took it back to our room and turned it on," Fred said in the same tone as his brother.

George continued. "She somehow managed to bewitched the Muggle tape recorder to play a howler message. _Fred! George! You know this room is checked thoroughly! Don't make us punish you!_ There was more...but it really isn't polite," he said, doing an uncanny impression of Mrs Weasley. Everyone knew it wasn't a question of etiquette preventing him from continuing the message contents, but more embarrassment on their part.

"I'm not following," Harry prodded.

"Well, since we didn't have any use for our tape recorder to be used for shady purposes, we decided to use it for you..." Fred said simply, as if this would clear things up for them, but Harry remained patiently puzzled.

"Well, one of the best selling items in our store, is the hypnotising method kit. Fred and I studied up on the subject and sent a message to the author of the instruction manual. We had to pay her a thousand galleons, our first profits, for a private lecture. She taught us just how to use our voices to hypnotise you."

"But I was unconscious."

"Mostly, but nobody said it was perfect," Fred told him. "Anyway, since you weren't doing anything else but lie there, we figured it couldn't hurt. The famous hypnotist Oblivian- Mirk-Memory did the introduction voice on our tapes for us. She told you to just open your mind and relax. Your blood pressure and pulse went down, then , the rest of the tapes, volumes one through nine, we just took turns reading text books to you on tape, and in person."

Harry, who had no memory of this whatsoever, didn't know whether to say thank you or feel intruded upon, but when he realized he wouldn't lose his year due to lack of schooling, he was extremely pleased.

"I'm not going to start yodelling at inappropriate times or anything am I?" Harry asked, quite serious. The twins had rarely missed an opportunity for fooling around.

"No, promise!" they said in unison, and for just this once, Harry trusted them.

"OH, and Harry, Professor Snape taught you some stuff too, when we couldn't make it, like when you weren't allowed visitors and such." A cold wave of of doubt surged over Harry, as he wondered if Snape had opened his mind to Voldemort's summons using these very innocent intended inventions. Harry had lived as a Muggle, and he knew from Muggle history, that some inventions, created by inventors for a noble purpose, were turned to evil use in the wrong hands. _'No ,'_ Harry told himself. If that were the case, Voldemort would have taken him straight from St. Mungos.

"A thousand galleons?" Harry stammered. "That must have wiped you out." He now could truly comprehend how fully committed they were to him.

"We wouldn't have had the shop yet, if not for you, but yeah, it tapped us out at first, but we've been really successful with simpler versions of sleep learning guides," Fred said proudly. Hermione suddenly looked very put out. "No, Hermione, it's not like Harry's. The students who purchase these have to study aloud first before they can tape the message to themselves. No cheating. Even Professor Dumbledore approves of this product in special cases," he informed her, before she could protest.

"In Harry's case, it simply wasn't fair that he was falling behind, and it seems so with our Neville here, too," George told her firmly. Ginny wished in a way that she could have said something to Harry on those tapes... but no that would be wrong. He was as thick as Ron when it came to girls and he probably always would be.

"So Neville," Fred encouraged his fellow Gryffindor, "we'll set you up with a kit like Harry's, and I don't think even Hermione can complain about us giving you the souped up version of it, given your...circumstances." Neville looked as happy as they'd ever seen him.

"Do you really think it'll work on...me?" he asked doubtfully, but with a glint of hope in his eyes. "When do I start?"

"No time like the present. We'll lend you some tapes," the twins offered kindly.

"He really should do it himself," Hermione said, "Okay, he can start with yours, but he's got to study for real too." For a minute, Neville was reminded of his Gran, but for once not in a bad way. He now knew why she had pushed him so hard all his life, and he was grateful.

Evening had fallen faster than any of them had realized. They had talked for hours. Everyone felt loads better, even Harry, though what he had been told about Snape teaching him during his incapacitation, was still a little disturbing to him. Fred and George had even told him that they had put extra emphasis on special charms and curses on the tapes. Any that they had felt he could use against the Dark Lord or his followers. Being the joksters they always were, Harry still wondered what other surprises they had in store for him.

Madam Pomfrey checked in to see her patient, and was glad to find him in better spirits than when she had last seen him. After giving him his many potions, she surprised everyone by sending in hot fudge sundaes for them, telling Neville that perhaps he should summon Luna to join them. The Matron was very happy that for once, her patient seemed to have a more positive outlook. It was nice to just sit and talk like old times with a few exceptions of course.

Neville walked Luna back to the Great Hall, on his way the Gryffindor tower late that evening, well past curfew, but any scoldings, or detentions from professors who found him in the corridors after curfew, were worth it, for more reasons than one. He had his tape recorder, with headphones and tapes, and Fred and George had already fixed it so that it could work at Hogwarts with permission from Dumbledore. The twins winked from behind Hermione's back, that they had added a few extra sessions for Neville too. .. "As he is a member of the DA and all," they explained. It suddenly dawned on Harry why he had been able to perform some pretty complex spells without benefit of a wand.

"Harry," George said very seriously. Fred and I worked on those tapes harder than anything we've ever worked on in our entire lives, including getting the store set up and running. There are spells on those tapes most teachers here couldn't do. We figured you could use them. For instance, apparation shouldn't be a big deal for you to try, when you're fully mended mind you. You'd get splinched for sure now."

"Oh...er...thanks,"Harry said after they told him he'd have to practice practically first of course. Harry wondered if sleep learning the techniques for proper apparation, would lead to a nasty splinching, wherby the person trying to apparate somewhere else, leaves behind part of their body by accident when they appear at their intended destination.

Hermione surprised them all by suggesting, "Maybe we should make the DA stronger by teaching them all these skills."

"Yes, but Hermione, remember Marietta Edgecombe and Cho Chang? If we taught those traitors these skills, they could use them against us." Ron argued.

"Actually, Cho Chang is the only one of the accused to win an appeal of her case," George told them disgustedly. "We just heard it today at lunch." Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry remembered silently, hadn't it been Cho Chang who'd brought Marietta Edgecombe to the DA meetings in the first place, and wasn't Marietta the only accused to admit guilt freely in his kidnapping?

"What do you think, Harry?" Hermione asked in her unintentional bossy way.

"I don't know, Cho's nothing to me. I've never had any feelings about her one way or the other." Harry spoke so fast, he was barely intelligible.

"Um...I meant about sleep teaching the DA: Hermione corrected, as she saw Ginny give a small pout that only another female could detect.

"OH! Yes...of course," he stammered. "Oh yes of course, teach them sleep learning. Harry was still embarrassed from having brought up Cho again. He was very tired, and suddenly Ginny became very tired herself. He was glad to know that his opinion still counted, but wondered why Ginny hadn't been a very big part of the conversation. _"I just will never understand girls,"_ Harry thought to himself.

When everyone had left, yawning and glad to be friends again, Harry settled down to sleep, but though his body was tired, he could not turn off his thoughts. He thought of Cho. What if she was innocent? What if she had only caught the burrowing head lice from the kidnappers during their trek down the corridors shortly after having been cursed by Ron? After all, Neville had confirmed that Cho had indeed come to see him to ask about Harry's condition.

Harry also pictured a strong army of students, skilled in almost every aspect of magic. An elite anti- Voldemort squad. He shook his head, almost amused. It was like an overdone Muggle television program that played out in his mind. Still, it might be useful.

Neville slipped into his four poster bed and put on the headphones, half wondering if he was doing the right thing. After all, despite his Gran's ravings about his shortcomings, she had also told him that one day, he would be a great wizard just the way he was. He thought fondly on this for about half a minute before putting on the headphones, and settled down nervously. Nothing could have possibly convinced him to permanently alter himself forever, other than the fact that he had already forgotten how to run the tape recorder, despite the fact that Fred and George had explained it three times only fifteen minutes ago. He muttered to himself, grateful that Hermione had kindly written out all of the instructions for him. He was also grateful that she hadn't believed him when he had assured her that he would remember the instructions himself.

Meanwhile, Harry tossed and turned, despite the conflict resolution. Ron had fallen asleep over an hour ago. Harry opened his eyes when light fell across his face from the outer Hospital Dorm. Even now in the semi- darkness, the visitor was unmistakable. "Feel like company Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, peeking around the door. Harry was glad to find that while he'd made peace with his friends, he had also realized that Dumbledore had been sparing Neville all these years, just as he had thought to spare Harry, and now Harry could not begrudge Neville the gesture, knowing how he had suffered all these years.

"Come in ,sir," Harry invited, sounding rather formal. Was that a sigh of relief he'd heard from his headmaster?

"Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape have informed me that you have improved greatly, Harry, and it is that subject that I am most to anxious discuss with you. I would like to discuss your plans for family week. Harry was wondering where this conversation was leading.

"It's only a week and a half a way, sir, unless you've heard differently than me, I'm stuck here still," Harry informed him, not knowing if he was glad not to have to deal with all that or a little sad that he wouldn't at least get to hang out with Ron's older brothers for awhile if they were coming.

"Yes, indeed you will continue to reside in the Hospital Wing under Madam Pomfrey's care," Dumbledore told him somewhat sadly. "However I have been discussing with Poppy and Severus," he continued informally, "the possibility of an outpatient program for you. That Muggle doctor, whom I have kept in touch with, thinks it would be very good for you. You will be free to wander the castle and the grounds in the company of your friends. You will be required to report back to the Hospital Wing for your potions of course, and for sleep and examinations as required."

Before he could even finish his sentence, Harry interrupted, "When Professor?"

"Starting first thing in the morning, Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him. Harry was grinning from ear to ear. "However." This word made Harry's enthusiasm dwindle, "you will have to allow Mr Weasley and Miss Granger time to finish their schoolwork, and you must promise not to engage in anything that would be considered out of your ability range at this time by Madam Pomfrey." This 'however,' was not as bad as Harry thought it could have been, but in reality, Madam Pomfrey probably thought Harry belonged in a plastic bubble.

"We would like to ensure that are used to being out and about, as you are to be guest of honour at the Hallowe'en festivities marking the end to family week. We also would like you to plan the theme for the party and dance, Harry. It is to be your official welcome back party." Harry knew there had to be a catch, and it was a big one.

Dumbledore just smiled at Harry as he said _'great,'_ ever and over and over again. Although Harry had no idea what to plan for a theme, as he'd never even been invited to a party like this specifically before. He didn't want to say no and risk his new found freedom if his lack of enthusiasm at this request was mistaken for weakness. Despite having forced himself to agree to help come up with a theme for the dance, he and Dumbledore felt better before he left. The ice had been broken, again.

In the morning, Harry was bursting to tell everyone that he was free, at least somewhat. Ron, who hadn't so much as stirred during Dumbledore's late night visit, was still groggy when Harry told him the good news. Hermione came in to see if Harry needed any help in getting up, which Ron usually took care of. She was thrilled to hear that he would be allowed some fresh air. Harry wanted out of here right away, so turning his full attention on Hermione, he suddenly became quite charming, "Hermione. Have I ever told you how much I admire your organizational skills?"

"No...why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "You don't have to butter me up, Harry, I've been looking forward to springing you from this place for weeks." Harry had left out the part where he had to come up with a theme for the Hallowe'en festivities.

Harry was touched by his friend's eagerness to see him gain some freedom. It seemed to mean as much to them as it did to him, but that wasn't why he had complimented Hermione's organizational skills.

"Oh, I can't do this to you. I'll just come right out and say it." Harry told them about Dumbledore's earnest request,(was it a request?) to come up with party plans, and he played on Hermione's sympathy and need to control, to help him in his task, or better yet, do it for him.

"As you're still under the weather, I'll help, but I'm not going to do it for you." Hermione was secretly flattered, since she had usually just been considered one of the boys all these years. They now recognized that she, as a female, would be better suited to this task, at least they hoped.

"What would you like to do, Harry?" Ron asked, surprised that Harry was even willing to participate in such a project. Two years ago, he hadn't even wanted to attend a party which involved even the slightest chance that he would have to dance with a girl, but since he was not yet on his feet, he figured he'd be spared that duty.

"Something the Slytherins will hate!" Harry replied with great relish. The project seemed good for Harry. It took his mind off all the hard work he had ahead of him to get well, and the pain he still endured every day, despite the best of potions.

"I've got it!" Hermione beamed brightly, dashing back into Harry's room, which they'd just left. She returned with...a book. Of course, this was Hermione Granger they'd asked for help.

"Trust our Hermione to consult a book. Parties don't come from books, Hermione. "Fred said disgustedly, thinking that she'd gotten a party etiquette book or something on table manners, or worse.

"Not ones people actually want to attend anyway," George added, as Hermione shot them all an offended look.

"This happens to be a book on entertaining. I think that's why my parents gave it to Harry. They must have been told by Dumbledore about Harry having to come up with a party theme. It seemed a strange gift at the time to me, but there it is, their way of giving you an idea," Hermione informed them enthusiastically, somewhat glad that she had finally figured what this strange gift had been all about.

"OH, Hermione, you're pure evil genius! A muggle party! The Slytherins will hate it!" Harry exclaimed, with a spark in his eyes that none of them had seen since he'd last played a Quidditch match under normal conditions.

"Yeah, but a lot of Muggles will attending. What fun will that be for them," Ron asked, not grasping what Hermione and Harry knew about this book, having been Muggle raised.

"This book was published in the nineteen seventies, Ron," Harry informed his puzzled friend. For once, it was Ron who was in the dark about traditions in dress and such, for he , being raised soley wizard, knew nothing about how much clothing and hairstyles had changed since then.

"You don't understand, this will be a costume retro party with music from the Muggles in the nineteen seventies and everything. It'll be something different for the Muggles and the wizards," Hermione explained to everyone except Harry, who having lived with Muggles, knew all about the nineteen seventies already. For a second, he was swept into a daydream, picturing Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon in bell- bottoms and tye-dye tops. He doubted Uncle Vernon had ever worn anything but a suit. Everyone looked at him curiously when he laughed out loud, picturing Professor Snape with love beads and faded jeans, possibly with a leather jacket. When he filled them in on his thoughts, they all had a good laugh.

"I think Professor Dumbledore will love it!" Hermione was positively ecstatic. Harry was getting better, and there was to be a dance!

"Yeah, and he'll encourage all the teachers to participate in the spirit of family week," Ron nodded dreamily. After all, it's only fair, we didn't want to attend the Tri Wizard Yule Ball either." Ron shot Harry a quick look, scared that he may have dredged up a painful memory, but Harry wasn't listening.

"So, how about it, are we going outside?" Harry asked hopefully, finishing his breakfast more quickly than he had done since he'd arrived back at Hogwarts.

"Harry, this party is at the end of family week. We need to start planning. We need to ask the house- elves for help." Harry just stared at her darkly in disbelief.

"OH, Harry! I'm sorry! I just got carried away, you know me. I know you haven't been outside...really anyway...for months. Of course we're going!" Ron got Harry's cloak and started to put it over Harry's shoulders.

"Thanks Ron. I think I can get it," Harry told him gently, not wanting to sound ungrateful. Hermione handed him his gloves and then his walk socks, and began to put them on under his trainers. Hermione was about to ask just what he thought he was doing, when Ron shot her a _'leave him be'_ look. By the time Harry was ready to go out, they'd handed him so much warm clothing, that he was sweating. Hermione was just about to place a warm blanket over his legs when Fred said, "Oh come on Hermione, he's not a hundred!"

"Well..." Hermione was about to argue when they suddenly left with Harry, leaving her standing in the ward. She caught up quickly, yelling at them for bouncing Harry around too much or going too quickly.

"I'm not gonna break, Hermione. I'm fine...really." Harry looked right into her eyes, and she found herself believing him.

"Okay then," She finally gave up and decided to enjoy Harry's first venture outdoors. The sun was bright and warm. Harry turned his pale face up toward it and closed his eyes. He could feel the sun on his face and everything felt better somehow. He wondered at how different the wind felt on his skin after having been cooped up in the still air of the Hospital Wing and St Mungos for so long. It was almost always sickly warm in the hospitals.

Seeing Harry out in the sun, face tilted upwards, reminded his friends of a recently released prisoner. Sirius had had that same unhealthy pallor after his years at Azkaban. They all silently prayed that everything would be better for Harry from now on. Harry opened his eyes, almost able to feel their silent, thoughtful stares.

"Nice day," he stated off handedly.

"Er...yeah, it is," Ron said awkwardly, only now appreciating his own freedoms over the summer, as limited as they had been due to the start of the war. They made their way down to the lake, looking out for any signs of 'criminal recess.' Harry would go ballistic seeing his attackers outside enjoying the day, but to their relief, there was no one about, except a few students who were between classes.

Harry could have stared at the lake all day, watching blowing leaves drift in and lightly float to the middle before disappearing from view. The school day had ended by the time they headed back. Harry, seeing activity on the Quidditch pitch, instinctively headed straight for it.

"Harry, Madam Pomfrey says your afternoon potion has to be taken on an empty stomach, so unless you want to wait to eat dinner until eight or so, we should go back," Hermione told him , of course making this up. She felt that Harry would feel badly watching a practice, and then seeing Ron, the twins and Ginny take off before dinner. They had rejoined the Quidditch team for Griffindor.

"Oh Harry..." Ron said dejectedly, Professor McGonagall asked us to rejoin . She wants us to practice to beat Slytherin in the exhibition game during family week. He cringed waiting for one of Harry's now famous outbursts.

"Oh...well...right...yeah. Umbridge sacked me last year anyway, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to play after that anyway," Harry lied through his teeth in compensation for the way he'd treated them just for a few DA meetings without him. He forced a smile, and forced his disappointment back into the pit of his stomach. "You better get going. You don't have much time."

'Why don't you come and give us some pointers. Angelina's good, but she's no Oliver Wood," Fred said seriously, and seeing Harry's look, he added, "And no Harry, we're not just patronizing you. You'd be a valuable asset."

"I'll just come and watch," Harry told them. He really didn't feel he had anything to contribute, but just to watch them flying for now, would have to be enough. It was more than he had yesterday. He wondered if he'd ever play Quidditch again.

Harry instinctively headed for the player's entrance, but turning at the last moment, he and Hermione made their way to the stands. Watching the new Gryffindor team in their practice uniforms churned Harry's stomach. It shocked him how very much he missed being with them. Ron smiled at him apologetically from above as the team huddled around their captain, Angelina Johnson. How he wished to be part of that huddle. Angelina gestured her hands all over the place in a silent language, which Harry could not hear so far away from where he longed to be.

Harry almost imagined he could feel the wind push his unruly hair down, as the seven players gracefully rose into the sky. He suddenly wondered where his Firebolt had been all this time. He had crashed hard into that forest... The reason he did not where his beloved Firebolt was, was because he'd been too afraid to ask. He had felt awful when his Nimbus Two Thousand had been destroyed by the Whomping Willow, but losing his Firebolt would be devastating, as it had been a gift from his Godfather Sirius Black. With all that had happened since he had almost died under that tree, Harry had a sick realization that more than likely, nobody had thought to retrieve his broom. Somehow he knew it was gone.

An uncontrollable panic rose in him, not so much for his Firebolt as a Quidditch broom, but as a very sentimental object. He remembered the day he'd received it. It had arrived for Harry the Christmas after the destruction of his Nimbus without a gift tag to identify the most generous giver. The Firebolt had been confiscated by Professor McGonagall to be checked for curses or hexes, since it was feared that it had been a gift from Harry's Godfather, who at the time, was thought to have been hunting Harry to do his master's bidding, as Black was accused of being Voldemort's supporter. The broom had been inspected and returned to Harry later and Harry had found out that the Firebolt had indeed been a gift from Black, but a gift without malice, a gift with love, a gift to make up for all the birthday and Christmas presents he hadn't been able to give his Godson because he had been in Azkaban.

Thinking of Sirius again, made Harry lose clear thought for a moment, and he felt the need to touch something that had been from him. Without thinking, he yelled, "Accio Firebolt!" and concentrated hard on retrieving his prized broom . He did not even realize that in his urge, he had stood up, leaning on the railings of the front row. It was the first time he'd risen on his own without great effort and pain. In his obsession of obtaining his broom, he continued to stand through the sound of breaking glass.

"Harry! Look out!" Hermione screamed, but he was too mesmerised by the sight of his beloved broom, zooming at alarming speed toward him, that she might as well have been whispering. The Firebolt which had been travelling toward Harry's standing height, lowered to a mount position, stopping with a crack right beside him. It stood gleaming beautifully, just like the day he'd ridden it last before the clouting he'd taken.

Harry reached out and touched the handle. It was as though he hadn't registered the fact that his Firebolt had just crashed through a pane of stained glass that was probably more than five hundred years old. The broom was like a race car sitting there, engine running, ready to be driven.

Quidditch practice had ceased entirely as everyone ducked to get out of the way of the speeding Firebolt and were now staring at their former seeker. Harry sat down heavily, only now realizing what he had done. This was more than a Summoning Charm. As happy as he was to see his broom in one piece, he now knew there would be questions about what had just happened.

The Weasleys all landed in the stands, while the rest of the team hovered right in front of Harry and Hermione. Harry didn't know what to say. There were mingled voices all talking at once. Professor Dumbledore could be seen striding across the pitch, followed by Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin.

"Is everyone alright?" Professor McGonagall asked, worried. She was looking especially at Harry. When everyone confirmed that they were fine, that's when the tough questions started.

"Explain to me why, Mr Potter, your broom just flew through some rare species of medicinal plant samples, crashing through my office door, up the staircase, into the Great Hall, and finally smashing through the windows to be found at your side," Snape said icily without breath. Harry looked at Dumbledore, to McGonagall, to Lupin for help, but apparently, they were also keen to learn the answer Snape had been seeking, though for very different reasons.

"It was er...an Accio Spell," Harry answered quite truthfully. What else could he do?

"That was an extraordinary Summoning Charm, Mr Potter," McGonagall remarked, sounding more impressed than angry. This heartened Harry a great deal. He explained everything without looking at Snape once.

"Harry, how did you know where your broom was, to concentrate on summoning it," Lupin asked.

"An answer I too am most interested in hearing," Snape said, now feeling that someone surely must have told Harry where it had been, which would have meant that someone had been snooping. He eyed the twins suspiciously, but it was nothing of the sort.

"I...I really don't know where it was, sir. I really thought that...you know, that it had been destroyed. I really didn't think about it...I really felt..." At this point, Harry clammed up. He looked out onto the pitch, not able to say what was on his mind, because it was about Sirius, and he hadn't been cleared of the murders he had been sent to Azkaban for. He wouldn't and in fact probably couldn't have explained that the reason he'd missed his Firebolt, was because he missed Sirius, nor was he willing to admit that he'd longed to fly so much, that the summoning charm just sort of happened. There would be many questions for Harry to answer as he hung his head, thinking about Sirius, glad to have his broom back.


	29. Magic Exists In All Things, Even A Kiss

Mercifully, Dumbledore decided that there could have been some sort of accident. "Harry, now that you are relatively free to roam, please come and see me in my office soon," he invited casually.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said as Professor McGonagall looked at him just the same way she had in his first year when he had flown his broom against the orders of Madam Hooch, and had done so masterfully, enough to be appointed the youngest Seeker in a Century. Snape however, looked between interest and annoyance.

Harry had enough brains and respect to apologize for the broken glass and Snape's belongings. He was assured that no lasting harm had been done. Dumbledore raised his wand and performed a Reparo Spell. The old stained glass window was repaired immediately, only instead of the originally inscribed date, with the initials T.G.-CH, it now had the initials A.D , and the current year attatched to it. "I always wanted to contribute to a restoration," Dumbledore smiled.

"It's getting chilly, Mr Potter. I suggest you make your way back to the castle," Professor McGonagall suggested. Harry wanted to ask why Snape had had his Firebolt in his office for so long, but he didn't want to push his luck. He was glad that none of the teacher's confiscated it. The commotion was over as far as Angelina was concerned, so she ordered everyone back to practice.

"Slytherin's not gonna take the benching of their beaters laying down. They've been granted replacement players. They don't care that the first game of the season is for exhibition as well as points. They'll be on their worst possible behaviour. Word is it that Malfoy's been made Captain." Angelina pointed out.

These words rang in Harry's ears. Somehow, Malfoy, although under supposed detention from Snape, was still allowed to to be Quidditch Captain. Harry knew deep down that Malfoy had not been innocent in the kidnapping. As he tried to be calm about this proclamation, he looked longingly in the direction of where Sashu's enclosure would be. He and Hermione were alone now that practice was back on. Harry had begged Hermione to just let him stay out for a little while longer, and she had melted in her resolve to do what was best. She noticed the way he had his Firebolt in his hands across his lap, as he stared at the flying team. Hermione thought she would do something to make him feel better, so she offered to take him to see Sashu tomorrow. At least through sitting out of his favourite sport in the world, he now had something to look forward to.

The Weasleys all appeared for supper, hair still wet from their showers. Harry really missed how great food tasted after a hard training session, which gave him an idea. He had stood for ten minutes without pain, and didn't feel tired afterwards. Now, even he could admit to himself that he was getting better, without setting himself up to fail.

With all the Weasleys, Hermione, Neville, and Luna Lovegood all in Harry's room, extra walking lessons were just a bit crowded, but Neville and Luna had sworn not to tell a sole that Harry was going against Madam Pomfry and the Healer's recommendations from St.Mungos and was practicing more than allowed. He did remarkably better than any other session and even let go of the bars for a time. He could feel everyone's appraising eyes on him.

"You look wonderful, Harry," Luna complimented him dreamily, maybe a little too dreamily, but for some reason, Harry didn't seem to mind, although, out of the corner of her eye, Hermione thought she saw Ginny scowl."

"You do look nice, Harry, I mean er...You must have gotten some sun today," Ginny corrected, feeling like crawling out the door. Harry just smiled at her, his brilliant eyes showing up against a bit of a blush. Although still too thin from his long ordeal, he was starting to get his appetite back now that he was at least out of bed more.

Thanks," Harry muttered, feeling his face get hot.

"Okay gorgeous, back to work," George teased. When Harry was finished, which usually meant when he was physically unable to continue, they all sat down to discuss the Family Week Party, with special attention paid to making it as horrible as possible for the Slytherins.

"I think everyone should be dressed like the Nineteen Seventies," Hermione said. We could ask my parents to bring some movies from then...if Dumbledore will approve of course. They planned meals and music and decorations by ten o'clock, when Madam Pomfrey ushered everyone out, reminding them that tomorrow was a school day.

Ron fell asleep immediately after everyone left, and Harry was alone with his thoughts. His eyes fell on the small package that Fred and George had brought him from Mrs Weasley. He opened it, and out fell out a replacement for his antique Gold Galleon. Tears sprang to his eyes. Was there no limit for the love they had for him? He sat rolling the coin around in his hand until he fell asleep.

When Harry awoke in the morning, it was from the first night of sleep he had without waking up needing more pain medication. He felt well and whole. It was difficult, even being magic, to change from pyjamas to clothes, but when Harry left his room that morning, he was fully dressed.

"Well, Mr Potter, you're looking chipper today," Madam Pomfrey appraised happily.

"Feeling Chipper," he smiled back. Harry planned to use the broomstick servicing kit on his Firebolt, just in case it had been damaged at all. This would also pass the time while Ron and Hermione did their schoolwork. They ate a hearty breakfast and planned another trip outdoors together. Harry decided that he would see Professor Dumbledore tomorrow, for today would be the day when he would see Sashu again.

Harry didn't want to rush Ron and Hermione, but he did tell them to come for him as soon as they were done their work. He was just about to retrieve his Firebolt so he could fully examine it, when he found out that it would be he who would be examined today.

Madam Pomfrey and Snape wanted to assess his walking, without the walk socks. Harry wondered why Snape was still involved with his care. He looked longingly toward his room where his broom was. He wasn't comfortable doing anything in front of Snape, especially anything he didn't do well at. When he caught himself after a stumble, he expected to see Snape sneer at him like he'd mixed the wrong potions ingredients in class, instead, Snape helped him into his chair, no doubt for Madam Pomfrey's benefit. Harry was breathing very hard, but he'd done it, several times, grabbing the bars only twice. Harry smoothed his robes where Snape had touched him.

Madam Pomfrey made a notation in her charts and complimented him. Snape said "A marked improvement, Mr Potter."

"Can I go now?" Harry asked, annoyed that Madam Pomfrey still felt it necessary to take his pulse and blood pressure and other fussy examinations he felt were unnecessary now that he felt well.

"Yes, Harry, you may go," Madam Pomfrey told him, buttoning up his shirt like he was four years old.

"Wait a moment...A word in private I think Mr Potter," Snape said, some of the sneer creeping back into his look. Harry knew the man couldn't fake niceties for long. Snape opened the door to Harry and Ron's room for him and was slobbered up by Max right away. Max had been staying with Harry again, now that Hagrid was dragon sitting and teaching classes as well.

'Yes...well...charming," Snape said, brushing the slobber away with his wand. Max was disappointed not to be rewarded with a pat or a scratch behind the ear.

"Come here, boy," Harry called, and bending down close to the dog, he whispered, "good job, but don't lick him, you might get sick!" Now that Harry's room no longer resembled a hospital room, he especially didn't appreciate Snape being in it. He and Ron had arranged posters on the walls and other personal mementos here, and even a little mess. Slytherins didn't belong in their dorms, so they didn't belong here. Snape looked around in distaste. It was rumoured that Snape performed inspections for cleanliness in the Slytherin common room, making sure that everything that was not house- elf duty, was done to obsessive cleanliness. As strict as Professor McGonagall had always been, she had always been of the opinion that great minds were sometimes messy.

Snape sat down, and Max automatically sat down next to him. "I think you should be informed Mr Potter that I am of the opinion that you should not be in possession of your broom. However," he said loudly enough to stop the revolt from Harry, "the Headmaster, who I feel is being too kind, feels it would do well on improving your mental health to have it back.

"I'm not mental!" Harry exclaimed firmly, still very aware that there were still those who believed him unstable.

"Indeed," Snape said more as a question than a supportive answer. "It would not be in your best interests to fly just yet, Mr Potter. I can see in your eyes that you think you can, but your balance will not permit it yet." Since when did Snape care if he broke his neck. Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that Snape was reading his thoughts, which even he hadn't fully formed in his mind yet. "There are people who have paid a dear price for your life, and running away from them won't save their lives.

"I...I wouldn't..." Was Snape challenging him to run away, probably straight into the hands of Voldemort? How did he know that Harry had always thought of leaving Hogwarts to protect his friends? Harry had to admit to himself that he'd entertained the idea of a small hover, just in his room, to test things out, just in case...He'd been planning it ever since he'd gotten the racing broom back. It couldn't help being prepared to flee...How could Snape have known what Harry wouldn't even admit to himself until just this moment? He honestly thought that he would innocently try it out, his real reason hidden from him until a greasy git like Snape had to pry it from his mind somehow. Harry hoped that Snape wasn't going to call an all out emergency and have the broom confiscated. Ron, Hermione and Ginny and everyone for that matter, would be devastated if they found out that Harry still harboured the instinct to run for their safety.

"I wasn't gonna fly it," he said again, getting defensive. He knew he had at least planned to try out the feel of it since it had come obediently zooming to his side, and he could feel Snape prying into his mind. Harry was just beginning to feel angry for the intrusion when Snape held up his hand to stop him.

"Believe it or not," (Harry didn't) "I was sixteen years old once too. Had I been laid up for three months and was suddenly presented with one of the finest brooms ever made, I would fly it." Now Harry wondered if Snape wanted him to die on his own on his broom, not being used to it yet. "There is something about the sweet release of pain and life's turmoils when one is out on the Quidditch Pitch..." Snape cut himself off there, absent mindedly stroking Max's head. Harry knew that Snape had not played for Slytherin, but he wondered if he'd played Quidditch recreationally. The Potion's Master stood quickly and cautioned, or threatened, take it as Harry would, "I have fixed your broom to the extent of my abilities."

"What was wrong with it?" Harry asked in alarm.

"Mr Potter, we were not in possession of your broom until two weeks ago. It had been missing in that Muggle Forest until then. Members of the Order were on strict instruction to retrieve it, elusive as it was. There were very valid concerns that a Muggle would find it.

"Elusive?" Harry asked curiously.

"It would not respond to summoning and could not be caught until I myself mounted a broom and chased it down. Your broom had gone wild. Professor Dumbledore must think highly of your flying skills. He feels you will adapt. I have not shared his opinion, you should know." This was not the first time Snape had voiced a differing opinion from the Headmaster. It was doubtful that even if you were fit and held your place as Seeker, that you would have been even remotely challenging to Slytherin this year, what with Mr Malfoy as Team Captain and all." Was this a taunt? Harry sure took it as one, and a cheap shot too, since Harry had been told from day one back at school that Quidditch would be for the most part, a spectator sport for him for most of the year.

"I think we both know Malfoy's got as much right to play as half the rest of his team," Harry said coldly, retrieving his Broomstick Servicing Kit from his night table. He was going to work on the Firebolt to occupy his mind from turning Snape upside down and out the door, in reverse of what Fred and George had done to him.

"Be that as it may," Snape said dismissively. Did he just admit that Malfoy had been guilty of involvement in the attack on him? Harry barely held his tongue. One day, he would pay Malfoy back a hundred fold for all the grief he'd caused since they had met.

"Make no mistake, Potter, my loyalties are to my own house, but if I say that Mr Malfoy was with me at the time of your unfortunate situation, then that is my word, and the Headmaster does not doubt it. Now, back to the subject at hand." Snape would explain himself no further.

"Do not attempt anything foolish. I think you will find your broom quite changed since last you rode it. I'm sure little Ginny Weasley will do admirably as replacement Seeker," he added by way of insult. Snape looked like he had more to add. Harry wished he would have continued when he'd alluded to the fact that he'd played Quidditch sometime in his youth, and Harry had to admit, though he loathed the man, he'd always been fit, indicating he'd exercised at least in some form. Did Death Eaters have morning exercises? Harry amused himself for a moment picturing them all doing aerobics. Snape had looked almost joyous when recalling the rush of the game.

It was now when Harry remembered seeing Snape as a child in misery, while a man, Harry could only presume to be Snape's father yelled at a woman that was probably his mother. Snape had cried, and when his thoughts zoomed to the future, a sickly looking teenaged Snape, was troubled as ever. If it had been anyone else, Harry would have would have felt sorry for them. Harry wondered if the sweet release of flying that Snape had referred to, was from his abused childhood. He checked his sympathies right or wrong, that if Snape was abused as a child, he should be able to feel what it's like, and therefore, he should be opposite from his upbringing and be nice. Even he knew this was far too simple, and Dumbledore's voice was in his head. 'Rising above one's past is difficult, even for those of strong will.'

"It's still my broom, and I'll adapt," Harry said as a dismissal for Snape.

"Very well Mr Potter, good luck," Snape said, taking his leave with his usual swoop.

"Why jinx myself with good luck now?" Harry muttered, as he somehow managed to set himself to the task he'd appointed himself. He was almost reluctant to pick up the Firebolt now, after looking forward to it for months.

Harry took out the tiny trimmers and now noticed that leaves were imbedded into the broom's tail. He began pulling them out and clipping the frayed ends. It was therapeutic to have something to do for a change. Even Hedwig's cage was changed by a volunteer student that Harry had feared had just signed up for hospital help to get a glimpse of him. He therefore made a point of going to have a shower or hiding away somewhere whenever other students he didn't know were about. One of the female Ravenclaw volunteers had burst into tears after just looking at him, very disconcerting to an already self conscious sixteen year old. She had been led away by Madam Pomfrey who was explaining that it was really unsettling to the patients when the people who are supposed to be involved in their care, cry. What would this girl have done of she'd seen a patient who'd suffered a serious disfigurement, or if she'd seen Harry at his worst?

As Harry continued to trim away, satisfied with this end of the broomstick, he turned it gently to polish the handle. He was enjoying being left alone to do something on his own. Polishing complete, he held the gleaming Firebolt up to the window for good light to appraise his maintenance work. He was seriously disappointed with his work. While the Firebolt's handle gleamed magnificently, Harry hadn't done as good a job as he'd thought at trimming and removing the dead leaves from the forest which had stuck into the tangle of twigs. 'After all,' he told himself, 'it did go through the tornadoes with me, and look at me!' He glanced at himself in the mirror. Only now did he even resemble the healthy sixteen year old he was supposed to be, and he thought, 'I could use a good combing myself!'

Harry set back to trimming, determined not to miss any broken ends or debris this time. When he was satisfied he'd not missed a single flaw, he held up the beautifully groomed Firebolt. He blinked hard, thinking he'd just seen something that surely had to be a hallucination. At first, a deep green leaf bloomed out of the knarled tail twigs. Harry dropped the broom as if it were possessed and rubbed his eyes. He barely stopped himself from going to get Ron and Hermione.

After a few moments of staring at the broom uncertainly, he actually got to his feet and bent to pick up his Firebolt, while gripping a chair for balance. He stared at the broom in awed disbelief, for the Firebolt had grown new green twigs in every spot where Harry had trimmed it. Fresh new green leafs unfolded before his very eyes, and Harry felt sturdy on his feet as the broom balanced perfectly between his hands.

The Firebolt lowered in his hands, leaving them entirely when it reached the level where Harry would normally mount. He couldn't help himself. Despite the warnings and the fact that even he knew he wasn't ready, Harry mounted the Firebolt and hovered steadily just at the standing height. He turned around a few times, resembling a child on a tricycle, with the broom anticipating his new needs. Harry didn't feel as if he would fall, even zooming around a Quidditch pitch, but hovering here wouldn't tell the tale.

Harry did want to put the Firebolt away, but nor did he want to get caught contemplating a flight. He forced himself to contain his enthusiasm until he could talk to someone, like Ron or Ginny or the twins. Not Hermione, he thought, she would have it confiscated again, like when he'd first received it, fearing something was wrong with it. He looked at his pocket watch every twenty minutes, cursing the time for feeling like it was going in reverse. Finally Ron arrived, but with Hermione, four hours later, for a late lunch. They were done their school work for the day already.

"Oh come on Harry, just one bite!" Ron implored, looking at the lunch table, but Harry insisted on showing them the broom, despite his misgivings about Hermione.

"Mr. Potter, do not be long. You need your nourishment," Madam Pomfrey scolded. Harry didn't really want to be late for lunch either, as he hadn't seen Tyler and Stephanie for a long time. He knew they would be eager to tell him about the fact that Stephanie had been appointed to research the rejuvenation plants Luna had so kindly given to Harry, and to Madam Week. He promised not to be long as he led Ron and Hermione to the room.

"Whoa! Harry does this remind you of something?" Ron exclaimed , touching the newly grown leaves. For a second, Harry's forehead wrinkled. "The car!" Ron reminded him. "It went wild too!"

"Yeah..." Harry said, contemplating this, "But my broom was lost in regular Muggle forest, not the Forbidden Forest."

"No forest is regular or ordinary, Harry. Each one has it's own unique qualities and life force," Dumbledore said, striding in unannounced and very happy about something. He had brought Harry something, which temporarily put the conversation on hold. It was a newspaper.

"Thank you Sir," Harry said, reading the head title of the Muggle newspaper aloud. He continued on, feeling elated with the story. "In light of the recent unprecedented tornadoes, which caused massive destruction throughout much of our city, officials have reached an almost unanimous vote to preserve the Red Hill Valley. Opponents of the proposed expressway, which would have seen the destruction of the last green space on our region, were elated.

"Trying to look like the good guys, politicians used the excuse that the tornadoes caused us to lose so many of old growth trees, that preservation was the only way. Opinions of the expressway opponenents, are that they ( the politicians) just couldn't effectively fight against the fact that the project was wrong from the start, and that the tornadoes gave them a graceful way out. Wealthy developers were outraged at the decision, as one of the main contractors bidding for rights to develop near to the site, was charged with bribery of the Mayor for full development rights. Six thousand new homes were to be built by this particular contractor, despite the fact that he has yet to answer in a court of law for building substandard housing.

"As for the reports of the millions of dollars in damages in ruined heavy equipment, the insurance company for the city is still flatly refusing to reach a quick settlement. Full details available in tomorrow's tornado edition." Harry finished the story, feeling a little guilty about the wrecked equipment, but elated about the forest. Harry hadn't been told that the Ministry's Magical Reversal Squad, had been called in on overtime to undo some of the damage that had been done to city's machines. He was surprised that, thought they had their equipment in fine working order, they opted to use it to rebuild the tornado damage, and not to destroy, like planned.

'This is wonderful, Harry!" Hermione was overjoyed for him. Harry really didn't want to admit, even to Ron and Hermione, that he had tried the broom out, especially with Dumbledore there, and since none of them knew what the broom's new qualities would be, there wasn't much else to do, but go for lunch. Harry walked beside Dumbledore, using his crutches for the first time.

"Professor, if the city's equipment was already repaired by the Magical Reversal Squad, why were they still trying to collect insurance for it?"

'Yes, well as to that, the team that was sent in to fix the er...shall we call it the mistake, Harry?" he said, looking at him. "Unfortunately, we can only fix the magically damaged items. There was damage done to some equipment at the city garage, by people hired to frame the protesters for causing damage. It all goes back to the same contractor, who figured if public pressure was put on the protestors, who would then look criminal, it would be a win- win situation for the developer. He would get new equipment, and the path would be clear for him to demolish without proper environmental assessment. It is most unfortunate, that like our own government, the top officials seem to slip away without being implicated" It was rare for Dumbledore to speak such things, but Harry knew how frustrated the Order was with Minister Of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, who had somehow won re-election.

For awhile, Harry was quiet at lunch, remembering how he had watched parent birds bring food to their nests in that valley after a particularly harsh punishment from the Dursleys. At least no more orphans like him would be made in that valley now.

Back in the his room, they resumed talking about the Firebolt's new properties, and there was much speculation about what had happened to it. Dumbledore had repeated to them that every forest has magic, and any object, particularly a magical one, can pick up on that fact. The old Headmaster didn't much surprised to learn about the new aspects of the broom.

Harry had no idea why he was so nervous about seeing Sashu again. It wasn't a frightened feeling, but rather a dread that she may have forgotten all about him. He could have kicked himself, when he realized that he was combing his hair and making sure he dressed properly for the visit. He shook his head and prepared to leave with Ron and Hermione.

Ron and Hermione had no idea why Harry was so silent on the way to Sashu's enclosure, but Tyler did. He had been to see Sashu on a daily basis, and had been helping Charlie take notes on new approaches to dragon care and control.

With the success of Fred and George's new joke shops, and their new prosperity, the Daily Prophet had done an article on Charlie's newest endeavour, minus the Harry Potter connection, which was absolutely secret. The headline read, 'Another Weasley making good." The article went on to praise the hard working Weasley family, who had previously not been newsworthy., but of course, at the end of the article, they had to tarnish the Weasley reputation by writing, 'a source close to the Weasley family has revealed that Mrs Molly Weasley cries daily about her errant son Percy, who has been estranged from the family for the past two years."

When they finally reached the enclosure, they were greeted by a beaming Charlie, who informed them that he'd received a large pay raise. Harry had a lump in his throat that felt like a watermelon. He stood up on his crutches and was almost knocked off his feet by a slap on the back from Hagrid.

"Atta boy, Harry," Hagrid encouraged. He looked almost teary eyed, seeing him stand. "Was beginnin' ter ferget how tall ye've gotten." Harry couldn't help but grin at this half giant who always noticed the slightest difference in him. Harry felt very on the spot when Charlie asked him how he wanted to do this.

"What? Me?" he stammered, but Tyler offered to accompany him into the enclosure. Charlie thought it best that Ron and Hermione stay outside as observers, and they were only too happy to comply.

Sashu had been sleeping, but opened one eye when her babies began to stir frantically to see Harry. She extended her long neck out of the nest, which her babies could now easily jump in and out of. She sniffed Harry so hard, that Hagrid and Charlie had to hold him up. When she was finished, Harry felt ridiculous, but he could have sworn she wore a smile. He sat on the edge of the nest, as Sashu rested just one talon next to him. Harry put his hand on it. The size of his hand on just one of her talons, resembled a baby's hand in size comparison.

Harry felt very awkward and on display, so everyone agreed to let him have some time alone with her for awhile. "They don't have short memories like previously assumed," Charlie revealed, smiling at Tyler. "She remembers you."

Harry was so much more comfortable with just her there. He knew she couldn't understand him like Tyler, but he spoke anyway. "Well..." he began,. "I guess you saved my life...thanks...and I'm really sorry about that tournament...I...we...didn't know." Sashu maybe didn't understand the speech, but she did understand the sad expression on Harry's face. Harry was just able to stifle a yell when she squeezed him between her large jaw and talon. Harry had been hugged...by a dragon. Sashu peered into his eyes, and Harry couldn't explain even to himself why tears had formed in the corners of his eyes. He felt happy.

It wasn't until Harry's nest mates finally scrambled over to him and began to treat him like a long lost sibling, whacking him with their tails and burping smoke rings at him, that Sashu emitted a small growl and they stopped immediately. Instead, they turned to sniffing him all over, knocking his crutches out of his reach. Sashu was intelligent. She used her talon to easily slide them back where he could reach them. "Thanks!" Harry said in awe. One of the babies started to knaw on the wooden crutch foot, and Harry's pulling on it, only seemed to encourage the baby, who thought he was playing tug of war. Again, Sashu growled, but not before the crutches were covered in teeth marks.

Harry scratched the baby's head, who closed it's eyes. He wondered if the baby could even feel the soft scratch, through it's rock hard skin, as he sat there feeling strangely at home on the edge of the nest. He poured his heart out to Sashu, probably because he felt she wouldn't understand it all. In years previous, Harry had been falsely exposed by a reporter, Rita Skeeter, as crying all the time about his parents, which wasn't true. He had been publicly reduced to a cry baby by this reporter, whom he's shared no personal information with at all. He had never even spoken to his best friends about the empty spot in life. Of course, they knew, but out of respect, they figured if he wanted to talk about it , he would. Instead, the magnificent beast beside him was made privy to his feelings like no one else had ever been. He even told her about his dreams, remembering his parents from his infancy.

Ron and Hermione felt bad when the reunion had to end. They promised Harry that they would accompany him to the enclosure whenever possible. Harry placed his forehead on Sashu's snout and dwelt there for over a minute. He had almost expected the great snout to be cold, but in truth, was surprised by it's warmth. At such close range, when he lifted his head, he could really only look into one of her eyes. She nuzzled him again gently.

"Bye, girl, I'll come back...can I?" Harry now felt sure that Sashu had enjoyed seeing him as much as he had enjoyed seeing her. It had been the best break he had had since he had been allowed up out of bed. He took a seat after walking out of the enclosure with the crutches, the longest walk he'd had without the walk socks too.

"I reckon it'll be no time at all 'til yer up runnin' round all over the place," Hagrid admired him, becoming misty again.

"Oh, Filch'll love that, he will. Make his day that will." Ron rolled his eyes. "Rumour has it that Filch has been heard saying that things have gotten quieter since with you tucked safely out of circulation."

Harry deliberately made a point of taking the long route to the hospital wing just so he could walk past the caretaker's office. Filtch, the Hogwarts caretaker, was a Squibb, wizard parents, no magical abilities himself. He seemed to hate all students, Harry in particular and maybe the twins for some reason. Some of Filtch's happiest times, in his self described thankless job, had been last year when Dolores Umbridge had taken over as Hogwart's Headmistress after displacing Dumbledore temporarily, and she had given him sweeping powers, including reinstatement of the old punishments which he had craved for so long, including hanging students by their thumbs.

Harry made a point of standing as tall as he could on his crutches when he greeted cordially, "Evening Mr Filch." Filtch stammered a few unintelligible words and looked deflated seeing Harry up and out again.

"You know, for a minute there, I thought he was gonna cry," Ron laughed.

One week to go until the beginning of Family Week, Harry decided that the DA could be utilized for more than just practical purposes, besides, Professor Dumbledore told Harry that it was high time he began to mingle with a wider circle of his friends at Hogwarts, so since it was still early, Harry called his first DA meeting for that very day.

Everyone arrived looking nervous. They had heard that Harry was not pleased about the secret meeting. Harry decided that to make amends for his hostility toward the DA, he would let them help plan the Family Week Party. The nervous tension that the members had arrived with, left quickly as they were filled in on the reason they had been summoned.

Harry could not believe his eyes when Cho, who was on parole for one week prior to Family Week, pending appeal, actually had the nerve to show up. Everyone nervously sat away from her and Ginny had to wonder if it wasn't fear of Harry's possible retaliation for what she had supposedly done to him, or if they were simply afraid that she may still harbour burrowing head lice, even though the contagion period was over.

Cho sat defiantly at the back of the meeting, and for a minute Harry said nothing in the uncomfortable silence. How could she have the nerve to come here? Either she was innocent, or she was the most loyal spy Harry had ever seen for one so young. He had started out to look forward to seeing his friends again, now it had turned sour. No one knew how to approach Cho, and while Ron and Hermione waited for Harry to show them a sign of what he wanted, Ginny put up her hand patiently.

Momentarily caught off guard by her hand in the air, instead of Hermione's for once, Harry asked, "Yes Ginny, what is it?"

"I move that we ban members under investigation for criminal activities until they are through their appeal process, does anyone second it?"

'AYE!" came a chorus of unanimous voices, taking the load off Harry, who still had veto power. Cho looked crushed as Harry granted the motion and the twins saved him the awkward kicking out of Cho Chang. Harry wondered if he was doing an injustice to Cedric's memory by doing this, but he couldn't help it. Cho was very much a threat if she was in fact in on the kidnapping. A shiver, not of fear chorused through his body as Cho shot daggers at him as she was led out of the room of requirement.

Everyone thought Harry's a.k.a. Hermione's idea of a Muggle Nineteen Seventies party was a good one. Some students would be disappointed that the Weird Sisters would not be appearing. Hermione was glad on this point. Her parents wouldn't understand the music anyway.

The friends fondly remembered previous DA meetings and adventures they had. Funny how seriously scary things were when they were happening, but how through time, they lost their edge. Things were really in place once Stephanie had confirmed that the old forty fives had arrived. Harry had to laugh as the wizards who had never seen vinyl albums before, examined them as though they were dinosaur bones.

Harry got his mind off of Cho Chang as the friends planned a menu with Dobby's help and got things in order for the party. He still wondered if Ginny had been sticking up for him, or just jealous of Cho Chang, or a combination of both. It didn't matter. It felt pretty good to have someone feel that way about you, even if she was his best friend's sister. He got caught looking at her, and hastily turned away, pretending to look at something else. He could tell she was still looking at him, but he didn't dare look again.

When Madame Pomfrey, who had insisted on knowing where Harry was at all times, came to the Room of Requirement, Harry figured it was to break up the meeting, as it was after ten o'clock, the latest she had let him stay up and out. Instead of kicking everyone to their dorms on this fine Friday evening, she invited them all back to the Hospital Wing for snacks. Everyone assembled knew that snacks from Madam Pomfrey would all be healthy or boring, but accepted gratefully anyway, happy to just be in Harry's company again. Harry was a little apprehensive at the prospect that the Matron might make him get into his pyjamas, or worse, fuss over him in front of his DA students and friends. She did make him recline on his bed in a sitting position, but to his greatest relief, nothing worse. She sent in the snacks, which, happily, included Stephanie's famous chocolate chip cookies. Hermione was the only one snacking on the healthy treats, her parents were dentists. The twins told her to lighten up and she finally had a couple of cookies.

Max leapt lightly onto Harry's lap, and Harry simply introduced him as his dog, with no references, of course, as to how he had come to get the dog. Max stared at him expectantly. "Well, I know Stephanie doesn't approve of table scraps, but once in awhile won't hurt." He gave the dog a treat. Problem was, that Max continued to drool until long after everyone but Neville, Luna, Hermione and the Weasleys had all left. Neville, who like Harry, had always wanted a dog, grabbed a tissue and dabbed at Max's muzzle to clean away the drool, and threw the tissue into the waste basket. Neville paused, staring into the waste basket.

"Harry, what are these?" Neville asked excitedly, extracting something from the waste basket, while everyone else looked on, puzzled.

"Er...well...that.." was all that Harry could answer as Neville held up several twelve inch green leafed branches.

"I've studied almost all domestic plant life and I've never seen anything like these. I could have sworn when I dropped the tissue into the waste basket, one of the leaves deliberately brushed up against my hand," Neville said, shaking his head.

"They're clippings from my broom," Harry finally told him. Even Ron and Hermione, who'd been let in on the story of the wild Firebolt, stared at the broom clippings, which had grown without benefit of water or sunlight or even Earth to nourish them.

'Your Firebolt's still useful though isn't it Harry?" The twins asked, remembering how much he'd cherished it.

'Yeah..." Harry replied sounding only half sure. Fred and George didn't seem much surprised about the broom. Apparently, Snape had complained to the twins about having to search for the infernal thing all day, and sit security with Harry at night sometimes when things were busy.

"Ooh how lovely! A Replicating Riser," Luna admired, touching the newly formed leaf gently. "Only grows with plants and seeds that are compatible. My dad's paper did an article on them once. Researchers still aren't sure what causes them to grow," she mused further, shaking the branch slightly. No one said anything, but nor did they believe her. They were all just politely interested, except for Neville, who seemed to have found the information fascinating.

"Can I have these Harry?" Neville asked, gingerly taking all the twigs from the waste basket. Harry was a little reluctant, but after all, they were in the trash, and Neville was quickly becoming the top Herbology student in the school, so he agreed to give Neville the clippings.

Neville left happily, offering to walk Luna to the Great Hall. It was a long day, and Harry was very tired. It was well past curfew, and Neville looked disappointed when the twins said goodbye to Harry at the same time and left with them.

"Idiots," Hermione muttered, as Ginny started to giggle.

"What?" Harry and Ron asked at once.

"I think Neville wanted to talk to Luna alone." Hermione's intuition was usually correct at these times. "Even Tyler gets it, and he's only eleven for Pete's sake!" she added disgustedly. Ginny had to agree with Hermione. She hadn't exactly sent up smoke signals that she liked Harry, beyond the years of a big childhood crush anyway, and either he didn't like her, or he was as dense as her brother Ron about Hermione. She didn't want to know, It was safer that way.

"Ron and Harry looked scandalised. "You two!" Hermione said, with nothing to follow. Ron wondered if she was beginning to feel like one of the boys again. He'd promised to recognize her as a girl, but not 'get weird' about it. Ron became thoughtful for a moment, entering his own thoughts. Neville was, after all, the same age as he and Harry were, and he was showing interest in Luna. In their fourth year, Hermione had had a date with a Durmstrang student. He had to admit that he'd been jealous. He wondered if Harry had been too. But no, he thought, Harry had been interested in Cho Chang at the time. He shook off these feelings, reasoning that Hermione would be much too busy to date this year. He wouldn't have to worry about this just yet...

'Hey!" Hermione punched him on the arm.

"Ouch!" Ron complained, rubbing it.

"We're going. Harry's tired. We'll see you in the morning!" she called after planting a kiss on both of them. Ginny took this opportunity to plant a kiss on Harry's forehead as well, blushing profusely before leaving the room, and Harry found himself sniffing her hair as she bent over him. He was staring after her, as Madam Pomfrey came in, mistaking the vacant expression on his face, as having overdone it.

"Professor Snape needs a sample of your blood, Mr Potter, than we will let you rest," she informed him.

"What! What for?" Harry asked, snapping out of the warm, fresh, just- been- kissed bliss into this revelation. He tried to remain calm. It wasn't the fear of giving a blood sample, but of what Snape could possibly want with such a specimen. As if cutting to the chase and avoiding the answer, the Matron informed Harry that Professor Dumbledore had asked him to comply. Harry was not going to give a sample of his blood to the Potion's Master without a clear explanation. He'd been a human pin cushion for long enough and was finally starting to enjoy some of the freedoms he'd been denied for so long.

Why couldn't they just leave him alone to bask in the glow of Ginny's kiss that he had felt all the way to his toes. Hermione had kissed him in exactly the same manner, but Ginny's kiss had left him almost breathless.


	30. Game Of Catch

Not impressed at the request for a blood sample from him in the slightest, Harry reluctantly rolled up his sleeve, and turned his head to look away. On one hand he felt ridiculous wishing that Ginny was still there. He hated needles still, despite having had so many of them in the last few months. On the other hand, he wouldn't want her to see him wince with the pinch of the needle. 'Just think about the kiss,' Harry told himself as he pinched his eyes shut.

"Harry, dear, we don't use needles, you know that," Madame Pomfrey said reproachfully. She merely placed the tip of her wand to the crook of his arm, and said, "Exracto." A glass vial of crimson liquid filled in seconds. Harry felt nothing. There was no hole or bruise. At least that had been painless.

"Why does Professor Snape want a sample of my blood?" he asked again, as Tyler looked on, just as interested as Ron and Harry were.

"To test a theory he has. That is all I know, but I can assure you, that when it comes to your well being, Professor Snape has your best interests in mind. "Now, drink this and go to sleep. You've had a very busy day," the Matron ordered.

When she was gone, Harry rubbed his arm, purely out of instinct, glad, for reasons he couldn't figure out, that Hermione hadn't seen him cower slightly at the blood test either.

"I can probably find out what's up, you know," Tyler informed them, piping into Harry's wild musings as to why the blood test was necessary enough for Dumbledore to pre encourage him to submit to it.

"What? Oh, sorry Tyler, must have tuned out for a minute." Snape had wanted a rather large sample and he was left feeling woozy.

"I've been helping Professor Snape with that Draco Malfoy. He's completely swamped with some huge experiment he's conducting. The Headmaster has been visiting his office a lot lately with Professor Lupin and that Guidance Councillor, Professor Moody."

Harry almost laughed, picturing Mad Eye Moody giving advice to students. He wondered if Moody could resist warning students not to put their wands in their back pockets for fear of losing a buttock, like he'd warned him when they'd first met.

"Yeah, that would be great! Do you know anything at all yet?" Harry asked.

"Not really, but Professor Snape did wonder one day out loud to himself if the transfusion would have the side effect he'd hoped for," Tyler said offhandedly.

Harry gulped. He knew he'd had a transfusion of blood to save his life, but he had purposely dismissed from his mind, the suspected source of the blood...Snape! He had decided he just didn't want to know, but now he knew, even if no one had said where his transfusion had come from.

"Professor Snape looked really sick when the Paramedics took his blood," said Tyler. I didn't realize at the time that he'd never seen syringes before. He looked like he wanted to punch the medic on the nose when the blood started to flow. I offered to donate to you, but they said I was too small..."

This news fell on Harry like a ton of bricks. Professor Snape's blood chorused through his veins. He instinctively looked at his arm where the intravenous needle had been. If he thought it would help, he'd cut his arm off. 'Talk about dirty blood,' Harry hated himself for thinking.

"OH Gross!" Ron moaned, looking sick on Harry's behalf, then composing himself, while chastising himself for acting juvenile.

"Tyler, whatever you do, don't tell anyone about this." Harry pleaded. The last thing he needed was Snape knowing that he knew that he had saved his life. Then again, maybe he would consider them even and stop punishing him because he had hated Harry's father.

"Oh, I know that Harry. Even Draco Malfoy doesn't know, but Professor Snape has been making him do everything with the experiment that doesn't require his personal attention. Well Harry, I guess you'd better get some rest..." He looked into Harry's eyes and thoughtfully added, "By the look of your eyes, it will be a cat nap."

Even though he'd just been handed this disturbing news, Harry fell asleep immediately. It seemed that whenever he felt he needed to get away, he became a Griffin, or at least a partial one. He stretched out his powerful paws, ready for a run. The warm winds rushed through his fur and he was free.

Ron, who hadn't fallen asleep so quickly, amused himself, almost laughing out loud as Harry twitched, clearly dreaming. He stopped, fascinated as Harry's hands and feet actually transformed into huge paws. He didn't dare wake Harry up, but he also knew that if he summoned Madam Pomfrey, she'd keep Harry in bed for a week, worrying that he'd overtaxed himself. Ron couldn't wait for Harry to be healed enough to be back to his old self again, so they could fully appreciate their new Animagus status.

Professor Dumbledore had advised Ron, Harry and Hermione, not to register as Animagi just yet, which for the Headmaster was quite a leap, but what surprised them the most, was the fact that Professor McGonagall, an Animagus herself, concurred with Dumbledore's advice. Even Professor Snape had hinted that it would be hasty to register since no one was quite sure yet whether these new found talents would last, since they were not practised, except in theory in class, and in Ron and Hermione's case, mildly looked into with Professor McGonagall over the summer. There was simply no precedent in the history of wizard record keeping and old census polls of three Animagi gaining their powers to transform without much practice, let alone one who transformed into a magical creature. Ron also realized on a serious level, that of course, their new abilities must not be leaked to Lord Voldemort if the Telephotus dreams hadn't already done that.

Finally, after ten minutes or so, Harry's feet became human again. He settled down, and Ron could hear his steady breathing, and staying awake long enough to make sure Harry was alright, nodded off himself.

With one week to go until Family Week, the final touches were being put on the finale party for Hallowe'en, which would fall on a Sunday. Harry had learned that the first Quidditch match of the season between Griffindor and Slytherin, would be held for points as well as for exhibition for the families, on the Tuesday of Family Week.

Professor Dumbledore was positively impressed and looking forward to the party as he excitedly showed Hermione his costume, to make sure he'd gotten it right. Professor Flitwick, the tiny little Charms Teacher, who was usually in charge of decorations for occasions such as this, had borrowed Harry's book to get some ideas for how the Great Hall should be decked out. He of course, adored the platform men's boots he'd seen in a picture from Nineteen Seventy Nine, and was delighted that his moustache matched the ones from the pictures already.

Professor Snape however, was grumpier than ever. Apparently, as expected, Professor Dumbledore had strongly advised the staff to participate fully in the festivities as it would be a public display of not giving in to the growing anxieties of Voldemort's return, but rather a defiance of the dark lord, to be free to have fun, to unite against the darkness.

In the few short days that had passed, Harry's walking had become stronger. Professor Dumbledore came to have breakfast with the usual gathering. He brought Harry welcome news. Firstly, the monitor that he would have to wear to protect he, Hermione and Ron from the Telephotus dreams, was ready. He would wear it tonight, as a test.

"I've also brought you something else, Harry. It belonged to my Great Grandfather." Dumbledore held out a cane, which was carved with many rustic symbols, that upon first glance, were not easily discernable. After staring at it for several seconds, he recognized people, on brooms, chasing a bird. "A snidget!" he exclaimed. "This is nice, but I'm glad we don't use real birds anymore," Harry said in wonder.

"Cruel, really," Ron added.

"I couldn't agree with you more.," Dumbledore told him. "Great Grandfather was very relieved when they finally stopped this practice. Spent many an hour trying to revive the poor little beasts after some of the matches. Succeeded a few times, I daresay. Claims the opposition teased him mercilessly for 'bothering with it."

Tyler had snapped to full attention at the last proclamation. He could definitely relate. The flack he'd been bestowed by classmates for stopping them from throwing stones at a bird's nest or the like, had been cruelly suffered. Still though, through it all, he knew he'd done the right thing and carried no shame.

Harry appreciated the gift, but what was he going to do with an old man's cane? He'd be a swift target for sure with that. He awkwardly took the cane from Dumbledore's hands and said thanks, not being able to explain his reluctance without seeming rude and ungrateful.

"Oh my dear boy!" Dumbledore laughed, a lot happier than on most occasions this year, my Great Grandfather did not use this cane in his old age. He used this cane in this very school, in this very Hospital Wing, when he'd broken his leg in a game of, you guessed it, Quidditch!" Dumbledore explained, as dawning comprehension came to Harry. "It seemed one of his team mates was an accomplished wood carver. This cane is not magically carved, it is carved , sanded, and polished by hand, and now Harry, it is yours."

Now thoroughly amended to using this cane, Harry stammered a reply. "But sir, this was your Great Grandfather's. I couldn't. I'll give it back to you when I'm better..." Harry stammered, overwhelmed by this heirloom that Dumbledore was trying to give him.

"No Harry, I believe Great Grandfather would have been proud to have this handed down to such fine young Gryffindor Seeker." Something about the way Dumbledore had said this, made Harry feel sure that Dumbledore's Great Grandfather had been in Gryffindor as well, and probably, a Seeker like Harry. Harry made a mental note to check the trophy room for information. This new gift had the effect of making everyone wonder if Dumbledore had any living relatives, for he spoke seldom of his personal history.

"Thank you sir," Harry said. He was very grateful, but he knew he'd still be teased.

The third week of October started clear and bright. The weather had been so unpredictable lately, that the unusually warm weather, was a welcome change, and would be ideal for Harry's first try with a cane. Harry planned to sneak down to the kitchens to thank Dobby for the Walk Socks, which had really expedited his getting back on his feet. He no longer needed them. Harry could never have seen, that as dear as socks had become to Dobby since he had been freed by one of his socks, that a gift of socks in return, would one day help free himself as well.

After breakfast, Hermione, Harry, Neville, Luna, Tyler and the Weasleys, all snuck down to the kitchens together, but half way there, Ginny had a pang of Hermione style angst about her grades and decided to go the library instead, to study for her owls. Angelina had been harassing her constantly about missing Quidditch practices. Before she left for the library, she lamented, "Angelina only came back this year to play Quidditch, you know, same as some of the other seventh years from last year. Dumbledore said they'd all be graded in their pre Umbridge demonstration, but she said she really wanted to sit the N.E.W.T.S. instead of being averaged out based on the tester's averages. That's also why enrollment is at an all time high. A lot of seventh years came back for an eighth. Ron shook his head, sure that he had been offered to opt out of redoing his N.E.W.T.S., he'd have jumped at the chance.

"They really should add an eighth year for advanced studies permanently," Hermione said wistfully.

"Are you mad!" Ron asked disgustedly. Hermione just smirked at the look of revulsion on his face.

"Ginny really is overwhelmed this year, you know. It's too bad you couldn't take over as Seeker since your ban's been lifted," Hermione stated. Harry felt a pang of guilt, feeling sure that Ginny hadn't wanted such a training intensive position on the team with having to study for O.W.L.S. at the same time.

"Still, I reckon Harry could fly well enough for a bit of fun, you know just recreation..." George said absently.

"Don't encourage him!" Hermione warned, for Harry had been looking at his Firebolt lying on the bedside table with a small smile after this statement.

"Yeah, flying doesn't require walking," Fred said.

"Well, they still haven't cleared him for flying yet," Hermione complained, in that, "I'm going to tell," bossy kind of way.

"No, but they didn't specifically say he couldn't," Ron reasoned, shrugging his shoulders and deliberately not looking at Hermione.

Harry was a bit disappointed with himself for having to rely on the cane more than he thought he would. His left leg didn't bend as easy as the right, and he had a definite limp, but at least, no pain. As Hermione looked crossly on, Fred stuck Harry's broom under his robes and they made their way leisurely down the path. As mad as Hermione was at the prospect that Harry might attempt flight, he felt it best not to mention that he had already tried the broom out in the confines of his room. Over the past few days, no new growth had appeared on the Firebolt.

The Quidditch pitch was already occupied with students and the stands had people watching the Slytherin team practice. "Well, that's that," Hermione said hopefully.

"Nah, there's loads of other places to practice." Harry was at the end of his strength when they reached Hagrid's hut. He sat down on the stone steps to rest.

"Alright there Harry?" Fred asked, wondering if they had egged him on too much.

"Yeah, just not used to the new cane," Harry replied. It was annoying to be tired just from a short walk. He would have panicked over this if it weren't for the glorious opportunity to fly again.

"Harry?" Ron said timidly. "I reckon someone should try out your broom first to see how it handles. With your legs the way they are, I don't think we should take a chance with the new quirks it might have picked up..." Ron hated to say this. He didn't want Harry to think he was being over protective or that he couldn't do it.

"You're probably right." Harry hated to admit that hovering around in his room was not a proper test flight, and he may not have the sharp skill back yet to handle any bucking or loops unexpectedly.

"Um...well, I'll go then. I'm a bit taller than you, but it should make no difference.

"Yeah." Harry handed him the broom. Ron mounted the broom and kicked off hard from the ground, but the Firebolt remained stubbornly where it was, hovering at Harry's mounting height. When Ron tried again, the broom remained steadfastly where it was.

"That's strange," Harry mused, getting up and walking over to Ron. "It was working fine when I tried it out in the room..." Hermione gave him a very dirty look. Ron dismounted and the broom remained in it's preflight position, hovering. Harry mounted and kicked off somewhat painfully and awkwardly, but the Firebolt flew magnificently up into the air.

Harry wanted to keep going until he could block out Hermione's, "Harry! You get back down here this instant!" The tirade continued. Soon everyone but Hermione, who wasn't at all fond of flying, was off the ground too. Harry could swear his Firebolt had developed instincts. When he shifted, or had a spasm of back pain, he would have fallen off a normal broom, having let go to grab his back unexpectedly without thinking. Instead, the Firebolt merely glided easily until the pain had passed and he had proper contact again.

Harry fancied, with a smile, that he could almost see Hermione's scowl of disapproval. Of course at this height, this was simply impossible. Neville, who had played on a recreational Quidditch team this past summer, had brought along a Quaffle. A simple game of catch soon began. For once in three long months, Harry felt normal, and it was wonderful.

George was playfully doing the commentary. "And Longbottom passing to Lovegood...Oh! She misses! Wait a minute," he broke off as everyone watched in stunned amazement as Luna recalled the Quaffle that she had missed by a mile, back to her, no wand, no words, just her index finger pointed at the Quaffle, motioning the Quaffle back to her. This reminded Harry of something. He too had performed a Wandless Summoning Charm on Hagrid's wand to defend himself. Very few wizards were adept at wandless magic, and Harry had to wonder if he could only utilize this talent in times of great stress and personal danger.

"What?" Luna inquired as everyone stared at her.

"Luna, how did you do that?" Neville asked, wide- eyed and in clear admiration.

"I just wanted it," she replied simply.

Neville just shrugged his shoulders. He was feeling very inept indeed and more than a little impressed with Luna too. There would be many discussions later with Luna about this. Everyone wanted to know everything about her now. Ron could relate to how she felt when everyone started asking questions at once. He, like Luna, had usually been largely ignored for years, except for taunting from other students. At times, it had been a contentious issue for he and Harry, who usually received all of the attention, albeit, usually the bad kind and always the unwanted kind. Luna really didn't understand what all the fuss was about. It was decided before the game of catch resumed, that any special or extraordinary talents hidden within the DA members, would be disclosed at the next meeting. Some of these rare or highly advanced gifts, could prove useful in the war.

The game continued with Harry's Firebolt flying so smoothly and effortlessly, that he almost forgot he'd been hurt at all. He barely had to think of turning or climbing, when the Firebolt would respond as though given a direct command. He found he did not need to grip with his sore legs. His broom felt like a part of him, and he felt he couldn't fall off even if pushed.

When they touched down, faces slightly wind burned from the cool breezes that had whipped up. Harry's Firebolt touched down gently to a halt just where Harry needed to be for dismount, right beside his cane and Hagrid's steps. Sure, he could direct his broom before, but this was extraordinary.

"Well done Harry!" George slapped him on the back.

"Be careful George!" Hermione cautioned, but Harry didn't hold it against her. That was their Hermione, always looking after someone in her own bossy sort of way.

Ron let out a whoop of joy as her hugged Harry after touching down a minute later. "Honestly, you're going to bruise him!" Hermione finally said giving up. "You really did well, though Harry," she admitted.

"Yeah, maybe Ginny'll be off the hook, mate. She really wants to study more for her O.W.L.S. I reckon you could play Quidditch now mate," Ron told Harry truthfully. Then we'll finally get to play together without Umbridge staring over us.

Harry couldn't help but smile, but he seriously doubted that he would be cleared to play Quidditch. Still...if you don't ask, you don't get..Harry was exhausted, but exhilarated. He forced himself to walk back to the castle and to the bowl of fruit picture, which led to the kitchens. Fred tickled the pear and the door swung open. They had decided to get some snacks and celebrate.

Luna was the first to enter the kitchens. "Good evening to you miss Luna," greeted none other than Winky the house- elf who had been unceremoniously set free from Bartemius Crouch, who had been killed by his own son in Harry's fourth year. Winky had been presented with clothes by her master for supposedly shaming her master's family. Of course she had done nothing of the sort and had spent the last two years in misery. Winky had felt a huge disgrace for what Dobby did, in getting paid for his many valuable services to the school, and had taken to drunkeness and depression. Somehow now though, winky looked beyond mere acceptance of wages and holidays, she seemed to relish it.

"Winky, you look wonderful," Hermione beamed.

"Thank you miss." Winky's eyes twinkled brilliantly and for a house- elf, she looked almost pretty. The dirty old tattered clothes she had worn for over two years, laundered only when the other house- elves complained of the health hazard in the kitchen's food prep area, were now gone. Winky now wore a tiny little pink cashmere sweater with a white skirt.

The twins who had admired her staunch will, were the first to express a somewhat different opinion of her appearance. "Winky, white after Labour Day?" Fred rolled his eyes.

"Oh, sirs is so funny," she blushed timidly.

"Seriously though Winky, you look nice, and we got one of those poodles you wanted." George said, handing her a package. To Hermione's complete relief, the size of the package couldn't possibly have fit a real poodle. They all watched in bewilderment as Winky opened the package in great anticipation. Her eyes welled with tears as her long thin fingers held out an iron on poodle. Winky ran to a drawer and pulled out a picture, which Harry and Hermione, being Muggle raised, recognized as a clip of a famous movie actress from the seventies, on the set of her most famous movie about life in the fifties. Underneath, was the title, 'Grease.'

"I don't get it, where's the grease?" Ron mused. Looking at the picture.

"That's just the title Ronald," Hermione said, exasperated. "It's a movie about a teenaged girl who's really smart and pretty and proper, who falls in love with a boy, who's not so smart and proper." She explained to Ron.

"Oh..." Ron stammered, and it was unmistakable to the older twins what his thoughts were at this point.

"Wait until Professor Dumbledore sees me in this!" At the look of confusion on everyone's face, the twins, who knew almost everything going on in the castle these days, explained that Dumbledore had asked Dobby and Winky to be head waiter and waitress for the party, and to dress the part, so Winky, loving this movie, chose their outfits.

"We house- elves are not to be hidden away during the big party, unless it is our desire, and we are invited to have fun. Headmaster says if we wallow in fright, the evil one wins. They had never seen her so fiery before. Not only had she come out of the depression she had imposed on herself for shaming her family, she had embraced fashion. "Dobby has given Winky a present," she blushed, holding out a small pearl necklace from her delicate neck. Typically female, Hermione complimented Winky on her very tiny, pump dress shoes, which looked rather tight. "Beauty feels no pain," Winky said cheerfully. Hermione wondered now if she had gone from being a real slave to a slave of fashion as she winced from the impossibly narrow toes of the shoes.

Seeing Winky dressed like this, gave Harry an idea for his outfit. He had never fancied the bell bottoms he'd seen in the magazines, or the seventies earth tones or big hair. "Winky, you're brilliant. You've given us a way out of wearing those garish outfits to the Muggle seventies pary."

"What are you talking about Harry. We've already gone to a Muggle costume shop for our outfits...oh...wait 'til you get a load of us!" George told him.

"Don't spoil it!" Fred cautioned.

"Well I've seen that movie, 'Grease.' Winky, would you mind if we came as characters from that movie as well?" Harry asked hopefully. He found the clothes from the fifties more suited to him than the seventies, and they could get away with it, being a very popular movie.

"Yeah, yeah, I could wear that," Ron said approvingly, smoothing his hair back to resemble the picture of a cast member on the front cover.

'But how are we going to get the right blue jeans and leather jackets in time?" Harry mused.

"Well, we're covered for the white tee shirts already," Ron added.

"We'll get them," Fred offered. Seemingly, Fred and George had more privileges than usual and no big monetary restrictions either.

"Thanks," Ron said slowly, wondering just how much they were worth.

"Hermione?"

"Yes," she said somewhat distractedly.

"Do you want us to pick up anything for you while we're out?" George asked. Ron had been staring at the picture of the actress from the movie and answered, for her.

"I reckon this would look alright on you, Hermione," he said, handing the picture to her. This was very high praise from Ron, who quickly covered up having pictured Hermione in this outfit. "I mean...if you have to wear a costume anyway..." he shrugged, becoming interested in a plate of sandwiches, which had appeared with a pot of hot chocolate with marshmallows. Harry suppressed a grin at Ron's botched cover up. He had to secretly agree, that yes, Hermione would look absolutely beautiful in those clothes. He suddenly remembered Ginny, off studying in the library, acting more like Hermione than Hermione had been this year. He knew that her parents would not be able to afford a really good costume, so he took some liberty, and begged Hermione to say that she couldn't decide which of the outfits to wear, so Ginny could have a pretty outfit too, and he asked Fred and George to pick her up a costume too.

"That's our little sister, Harry, so we'll just make that poodle skirt extra long," George teased as Harry blushed. He wondered why they thought he cared about what she wore, when all he was doing was being considerate, wasn't it?...After all, they weren't going to the party together or anything.

"What are you two going to wear?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"You'll see," Fred replied, in a tone that no doubt indicated that it would be something unusual. He knew pressing further would be of no value.

Neville, who had taken everything in, in silence, having never been to the kitchens before, finally spoke. "I haven't really given my outfit much thought. When I sent an owl to Gran, she said she'd send something along." Neville looked nervous as to just what that might be.

"Oh Winky has an idea for you sir!" She motioned for them to follow her down a sparkling clean hallway to a closet like room and they all crammed inside. She removed an object from a box with great care. It was wrapped in a white bed sheet, held together with clothes pins and she opened up an old Muggle reel- to- reel movie projector. She snapped her fingers and the electrical plug crackled as though plugged into a faulty electrical outlet. She made a hushing noise and the lights dimmed. At first it was just a test pattern, but than a music video from the nineteen seventies came on. The band had very unnatural hair colours and wore theatrical makeup. Fred and George like them instantly.

"Sir could dress as one of these funny Muggles," Winky suggested, as the rock band KISS took the stage again. The more Neville considered the idea, the more he liked it. It had to better than any dorky outfit Gran would send. The twins promised to pick him up the makeup and items he would need. Feeling somewhat better at the prospect of having to go to the dance, where he had never done socially well, Neville actually started to look forward to it.

Luna, who up until now hadn't mentioned the festivities, spoke up at last. "They're not Muggles," she proclaimed, looking at the members of KISS.

"What? Of couse they are. My parents have some of their records at home. I actually had to listen to them when I was at home...still do in summer," she conceded.

"Oh, no," Luna said, unphased by Hermione's identification verification. "That from left to right, is Crocus Matel, Leo Prisel, Joey Fingerjoint, Pat Pattingtion and the only female member, Leona Henpeck," she said, squinting at KISS on the stage.

"They're Muggles, Luna, that's not even a fem..." Hermione broke off squirming, seeing for the first time that Luna was right, the one ugly guy, was in fact, a female band member.

"I'll go as her, Luna pointed out the female band member, as she took from her robes a large quantity of gold galleons and handed some to Fred and George. "Please pick up Neville's as well," she requested.

Neville protested. "Luna, you don't have to pay for mine..."

"What's money?" she shrugged. "Not to say it's unimportant, but you have to know how to spend it. Like on your friends..." Hermione caught a glimpse of Lunas's adoring glance at Neville, and as Neville noticed it too, his face became the colour of Ron's hair. Neville took a deep breath, and stunned everyone by asking Luna if she wanted to go to the dance with him.

"Of course!" Luna replied, as if this had already been a done deal. Luna had never implied that she shared in her father's wealth from the tabloid he edited called the Quibbler. She had never flaunted affluence and never used money to gain friends. Neville looked as though his feet wouldn't touch the ground until Christmas, and for once, it wasn't because of a curse. Luna merely looked pleased, as though the date was a natural and long planned as a cruise.

For Harry, Ron and Hermione however, it brought to light something they had never considered. None of them had dates. Fred and George never went to any function empty armed, even before they had become successful in their business. They looked from floor to ceiling awkwardly, and no one spoke. The silence was broken by the loud 'snap' as the reel came to an end and popped off. Winky looked at them , expecting a review as if she had starred in the movie herself.

"And that is not all," she said proudly. "According to the most handsome successful Muggle, fame a fortune and popularity can be yours if you order his inspirational book and tape set." She held up a Muggle book with the front cover of a cheesy looking man on a yacht with several bikini clad models beside him. "Winky has been studying how to become popular and win friends."

"Urg! "Winky!" Ron objected, before Hermione could start. "Winky, listen, you don't need all these things. You already have friends and we respect you..." Before she could stop herself, Hermione had flung her arms around him.

"Oh Ron! You do care about the house- elves!" she squeaked, almost sobbing. Ron rolled his eyes toward Harry, who with a forced straight face, suggested he become president of S.P.E.W. It was kind of hard to miss. Ron was growing up a lot lately.

For the rest of the day, Ron could say and do nothing wrong in Hermione's eyes, so impressed was she about the way he had been so outspoken about his indignation on Winky's behalf. "Brainwashing that is!" Ron said firmly, enjoying Hermione's rapt attention. When they reached the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfry noticed immediately the windswept hair and the dusty robes from the game of catch, wizard style.

"I just watched," Harry lied, as innocently as he could, holding his breath to see if Hermione would tattle. With his hair being always slightly messy, it was too hard to tell if he was windswept or merely just himself, so she had to settle for that answer.

"And how are we feeling after our activities today, Mr Potter?" She said 'activities' as though she knew he had been over taxing himself, and no wonder, for they had become so accustomed to Harry's broom hovering obediently behind them wherever he went, that they hadn't hidden it upon coming back to the hospital wing.

"I feel great thanks," Harry stated truthfully. The matron surveyed him carefully, and decided at last, that he was not any more banged up than when he'd left.

"Very well," she said, somewhat more kindly and less suspiciously, "I think you should have a rest before tonight." Harry had to admit that he could sleep, even though he hated the idea of an afternoon nap. It was like being a child, but he was glad when Madam Pomfrey finally ordered him to his room for a rest. Going on his own seemed, well, wimpy.

"Teenagers, invincible, the lot of you," Madam Pomfrey said, clearly exasperated.


	31. YOU CAN'T FIGHT NATURE

After Madame Pomfrey had insisted that Harry rest, he looked out into the ward as Ron and Hermione opened their books together to do some homework. "Yeah...they should have a chance at a good normal life, even if I..." He wasn't sure where his thoughts were taking him, but something in the way Ron had noticed what would look good on Hermione, and how he'd enjoyed her attention when he'd stuck up for the house- elves, was different from the way things had always been.

Ron had been quick to distance himself from the palpable difference in the air between times when they were with Hermione and when he and Harry had been alone saying, 'there, that'll keep her off our backs for some time about that stupid S.P.E.W.'

The main thing about Harry's uncertain thoughts did not trouble him, not in the way one would expect. He was jealous, sure, not of Ron and Hermione, but of the blatant fact that had been coming up so much in his mind lately. He knew he wouldn't have the chance to be a normal teenager, to date, break up, or even get a broken heart over a puppy love relationship... instead of the real broken hearts he'd always endured, like the kind that happens when someone you love, dies. How long was this going to last? He missed Sirius so much.

Harry fell asleep hoping that Ron would pluck up the courage to ask Hermione to the dance before someone else did. He knew Ron had wanted to ask Hermione to the Tri Wizard Yule Ball in their fourth year, but had left it too late, and asked inappropriately. Harry wondered now for the first time in a long while, what Cho was feeling now, and there it was, the realization that Cho was his first crush, and no, he couldn't just be dumped like everyone else in a normal relationship. His first crush had almost killed him! He suddenly envied anyone who was dumped in the traditional manner, not with a murderous vengeance like Cho's.

By the time Harry had stopped all the swirling thoughts, an hour and a half had passed and Madam Pomfrey suggested that he shouldn't nap too long or he wouldn't sleep tonight. "Do you need anything dear?' she asked, as if feeling guilty for questioning his honesty about his activities of the morning. When Harry declined, she asked him if he was up to some company. Harry wondered why she had asked. Hermione and the Weasleys had always just knocked and entered when they wanted to see him.

"Sure," he answered, and Ginny Weasley entered timidly. "Harry, sorry to bother you, but, well...this is awkward," she stammered, looking at her feet.

"What's up?" Harry prodded. She had taken care of him on some of his worst nights, and though they hadn't talked much, Harry felt sure that Ginny was finally comfortable with him. Maybe she had just been being nice, like a sister, as much as Ron was a brother? Now that there wasn't much that Harry couldn't do on his own, Ginny seemed not to know what to do when she was near him.

"Well, it's just that Professor Binns has set us an essay on well...you know..."

"No, I don't," Harry stated, trying not to make her any more uncomfortable. "Goblin rebellions?" he asked, remembering a particularly nasty essay he'd had to write in his O.W.L. year.

"No..." she trailed off in a prompting tone.

"Witch burnings?" Harry went on, going down a list in his mind, surprised that he'd paid even that much attention in his History of Magic classes.

"Ginny, I can't help you if you don't tell me what you need."

"Oh, sorry to have bothered you Harry. You must be tired. I'll come back!" She started toward the door.

"Ginny, wait." Harry was surprised by his earnest request. He really didn't want her to go. Being the youngest Weasley, in a line of seven older brothers, Harry had seen Ginny get dismissed from a room on many occasions, sometimes because of discussions about him. When they were younger, she seemed, even him, just a slightly clumsy kid who tried to hang out with them, but now, looking at her on his own, Harry realized that Ginny was only a year behind them and she was taller than Hermione and quite as attractive.

'_Urg! No! Ron's little sister!'_ Harry scolded himself. Now, he took on a more Weasley big brother tone. "Spill it Ginny!" He was astounded when she responded to this.

"Binns wants us to write an essay on the rise of Voldemort." Ginny had been saying the dark lord's name before most people even acknowledged his return.

"And?" Harry asked, knowing where this would lead.

"Well, the exam includes...your family," she stated flatly.

Harry's mouth had gone dry. The last thing he needed was people dredging up the entire ugly story. It wasn't like it wasn't common knowledge to every wizard, what had happened between Harry and Voldemort, but it wasn't a daily subject anymore, just a private slice of Harry's whole being tha he didn't wear on his sleeve, nor did he ever want to. Harry remembered with an icy feeling in his stomach, Rita Skeeter's article in the Daily Prophet, exploiting his past in the public forum. He would have no part of this.

"Sorry, I don't have time for this," he told her flatly.

"Oh, I know I shouldn't have come," she sobbed. "I just don't want to mess this up. I heard you saying that all the textbooks that mention what happened, don't understand the half of it. I wanted to talk to you about it to get it right, and yes," she admitted, "to get good marks. But what I mostly want is to set things right."

The way Ginny's eyes had a fire beneath them when she spoke of revenge for his family, made Harry remember the reason for some of her passion, for Ginny had been held captive near death, in the chamber of secrets by Voldemort. The memory of seeing Ginny as though dead in the chamber, made him agree to help her with her essay before his mind could catch up with his heart.

'Oh thank you Harry." She looked about to cry again. As Harry looked at her, he knew she must have been up way too late studying after Quidditch practice. She looked very tired.

"Um, when can you help me?" Just the way she asked this question, made Harry feel good. Obviously she didn't feel that he was just lying around in bed all day with nothing to do but help silly little girls with their homework.

"Any time," Harry said, making his previous thought null and void.

"Harry?" Ginny asked timidly. "Haven't you gotten well enough by Madam Pomfrey's standards to start doing school work yet?"

"Apparently not," Harry replied, not that he minded. Fred and George's sleep learning seemed to be sticking with him.

"Are you worried about losing your year?"

"Well, yeah, I guess," Harry lied, realizing that Ginny didn't know about the sleep learning.

"Well, you can always hang around with me," Ginny offered... "if I pass and you don't...not that I want you to fail or anything like that..." Ginny could have cursed herself, she was so embarrassed. Harry was reminded of Moaning Myrtyl's offer to let him share her bathroom with her if he died in the Chamber Of Secrets.

'Yeah, thanks," Harry stammered, fancying for one moment, that it wouldn't be so bad. He could see Ron and Hermione after classes. A reality check later, Harry was glad he wasn't going to lose his year due to absence from school. He now had an understanding with the Creevy's, but he could still hear in his mind, 'Harry sit with us.' Sometimes their admiration for him, had bordered on worship, and then a thought struck him that was worse than losing his year, Collin Creevey was in Ginny's year, and was sure to want an interview. The look on Harry's face, prompted Ginny to ask him what was wrong.

"Nothing,"he lied stoutly, though now fully regretting having given her a chance to ask him questions. "Just a bit tired," he lied again, thought the revelation that a teacher would delve into his past, did make him want to close his eyes and be alone.

"I shouldn't have come. This was a really bad idea!" Ginny had started talking fast and had become instantly clumsy, despite her very best effort to hide the fact that she cared for him so deeply.

Harry looked at her, just standing up from having tripped over his cane that he had layed down beside his bed carelessly. "Are you alright?" Harry asked, getting up to help her as quickly as he could.

"Fine, fine, I'm fine. Look Harry, I'll catch you some other time." Before Harry's lips could catch up with his brain, she was gone.

"Ginny wait!" he called, not knowing if he was relieved or upset that she'd gone. Thinking back over the years he'd known the Weasleys, he remembered the countless whispered cautions Mrs Weasley had given her children, not to ask him about his past.

As Ginny sped along the corridors, leading to an exit, any exit where she could just be out in the open air, away from her embarrassment, she could hear her mother's words as clear as if they were said yesterday... _"NO, don't you dare, I absolutely forbid you to ask,"_ followed by the many different ending to that sentence appropriate to the situation at hand. What was worse, here she was, in her fifth year, finding out that her childhood crush wasn't over by a long shot.

Harry had told everyone that he was too tired to join them for the evening, prompting Hermione, who knew nothing of what had taken place between Ginny and Harry, to begin berating the Weasleys for encouraging Harry to fly when they knew full well he wasn't ready. He startled them all by coming out of his room. No indeed, Harry wasn't ready, but it wasn't flying that had done this. He wasn't ready to tell his life story to a girl, let alone one whom he cared about. Ron's little sister, his friend...

"See Hermione, I told you he was fine, aren't you Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry said vaguely. "Has anyone seen Ginny?"

"No, but she's got a Quidditch practice in fifteen minutes. We thought you were gonna sleep right through it. We're on our way to the pitch now, come with us?" Ron knew how hard it was for Harry to sit and watch a practice, and though they'd played catch that afternoon, everyone knew, that Harry wasn't really ready for Quidditch, judging by how tired he looked now.

Harry knew, that once embarrassed, Ginny wouldn't be able to face him for several days, and he couldn't bear the awkward way in which their visit had ended. _'Why do girls act this way?'_ he asked himself, remembering some of Cho Chang's, what he termed, nutty behaviour. Why did they always have to giggle, or worse, cry? Why didn't they act like, well, like boys? Hermione never giggled or cried. Oh sure, maybe once or twice over Viktor Krum when she was younger, and maybe over him when she thought he might die, but come to think of it, that didn't count, as Ron had cried too. Now, Harry couldn't believe he'd put Ginny in a sentence with Cho Chang. Ginny wasn't flaky or flighty like Cho had been, and she would never harm him, he knew that.

Ron had asked several times, if Harry had noticed anything different in the way Hermione had acted toward him. Harry hadn't really taken notice, if you didn't count the sideways glances between them when they thought the other wasn't looking and the more than usual courteous charms Ron had put on, like eating slower for a change. At this point Harry didn't know exactly where he fit in to this new feeling in the air. Just as he was about to accept the invitation to the Quidditch practice, Madam Pomfry reminded him that he hadn't eaten dinner, taken his medicine...or bundled up properly to leave the castle after dark.

"I can go then?" Harry asked, hopefully."

"Miss Granger, I believe you are an observer of this sport?" Madam Pomfrey addressed Hermione.

"Yes ma'am," Hermione answered.

"Then I believe I can trust you to see that Mr Potter doesn't get a chill and that he eats his dinner. Dobby has sent a package with a warming charm on it. I believe it's hot chocolate and some healthy snacks."

Harry couldn't believe he was being given permission to leave the school at night, but with Hermione having blanket control over him, it did put a damper on his enthusiasm. He didn't need a babysitter, and he knew one shiver and it would be all over, back to the castle. Still...he was going out, just like everyone else.

After putting his winter robes on, and holding his tongue as Hermione readied too many blankets to take with them, Harry saw Tyler enter Madam Pomfrey's office. Tyler had been so busy working with Professor Snape that Harry hadn't seen him much lately. "Hey Tyler, Want to come watch a Quidditch practice?" Harry offered, remembering only now that he'd promised Tyler he'd show him some pictures of a Quidditch match.

"I would Harry, but we're working on your...I mean the um...just stuff...sorry. Next time?" Tyler apologized.

Harry couldn't help but feel a bit stung. His only Muggle friend was now too busy for him, but he didn't resent it. He knew Tyler's time at Hogwarts was limited and he just wanted to learn all he could. Harry knew Tyler's tight schedule had something to do with him, and he felt bad, even though in Tyler's own words, he was having the time of his life. Harry knew that Tyler would have enjoyed Hogwarts more if he didn't have to shadow Professor Snape, though for some reason, Tyler seemed to like the man. 'It takes all kinds,' Harry said to himself.

"Well, maybe catch you later then," Harry called.

"That kid studies twice as much as Hermione," Ron stared in awe as Tyler sped off. "Well, let's go."

"Buoyed by the fact that he was leaving the Hospital Wing for the second time in one day, Harry relied very little on his cane, and it took them no time to get to the pitch.

Hermione conjured a large cushioned seat to sit on the bleachers. She also started a small fire, fully contained in a jar near their feet to keep them warm. She sat next to Harry and poured him some hot chocolate, and to his complete surprise, handed him some pizza, one of his favourites.

Pizza had not been a very popular wizard snack, but when Harry had described it to Dobby, the house- elf promised to try to make him one, as Harry was his favourite person in the world. He didn't need to be told to eat, although Hermione couldn't resist being bossy. The pizza tasted wonderful until he saw Ginny. She was doing remarkably bad. The pitch had been magically illuminated, so it wasn't that she couldn't see the snitch that was hovering right near her. She simply couldn't catch it.

"Come on Ginny, concentrate!" Harry called to her in frustration and encouragement, which she saw, rather than heard. She did somewhat better after that, but the awkward feeling she had about having asked Harry for a personal account of his life, wasn't the only thing bothering her. She was tired from having studied constantly. Besides this, being in a family of Order of the Phoenix members, was unnerving.

Ginny knew that any moment, her parents or brothers could be called for a dangerous assignment to fight Voldemort or his followers, and in a family of nine, the odds of all of them making out of this war alive, were slim. These were not the cares of a normal teenage witch, and once again, Harry felt guilty, because no matter how he sliced it, he was the cause of her concerns. She had to worry about her family because of him, she couldn't study properly because she felt obligated to play Seeker because of him, and he didn't even know what else was his fault, but Hermione, as always, did.

"She fancies you, Harry," Hermione said bluntly. Harry couldn't believe his ears. He had always been completely immune to any indications of this startling revelation from his friend.

"What!" was all he could manage to say.

"Oh come on Harry. Honestly, you're as thick as Ron!"

"How do you know?" Harry asked, sounding more interested than he'd intended.

"Well, for starters, she's completely clumsy around you. For another, Ron constantly tells her what a good catch you'd make," she went on as Harry looked up at Ron, who was zooming around the goal posts.

"He has, has he?" Harry had suspected that Ron had hoped for a match between his sister and his best friend, though Harry couldn't for the life of him, figure out why anyone would encourage anyone to get close to him.

'And then there's the fact that you're not exactly the hunchback of Notre Dame either." Hermione filled the gaps in the conversation with this startling statement. Harry blushed...Hermione had been completely unabashed about saying this.

"She hasn't actually mentioned it though has she? You know...about..." Harry asked nervously.

"No, but all the signs are there," Hermione explained patiently.

"Okay, Hermione, you must be wrong then," but Harry knew that Hermione was rarely wrong, about anything.

"Only one way to find out, ask her to the dance, Harry. I think she would be thrilled," Hermione suggested. Usually, Harry shared these conversations only with Ron, when Hermione was no where around. After the fiasco of the Tri Wizard Yule Ball, when it finally dawned on Harry and especially Ron, that Hermione was a girl, Ron had left it too late to ask Hermione, only to find out that she had a date with a Durmstrang boy named Viktor Krum, or Vicky as Ron jealously called him. Vicky was now a famous Quidditch player.

Harry was going to ask Hermione who she was going to the dance with, but he didn't want to open up that kettle of fish. "I'm sure you'll have no trouble getting a date," Harry complimented, making sure that Hermione, whom he considered a sister, did not get the wrong idea or get insulted. Harry told her nonchalantly that she wasn't exactly an ugly step sister either, and they both laughed at the return compliment, wondering if Ron would have any idea what they were talking about as he zoomed around above them. Harry suddenly found himself fascinated with the way the pitch illumination caught the fiery red of Ginny's hair, and was momentarily lost in thought.

"Um...I kind of already have a date," Hermione began.

"Oh no, not again Hermione, Ron'll have a fit, and that not telling us who it is..."

"It kinda sorta is Ron," Hermione said, using her first ever bad diction in her cringing to tell him. If anyone was going to tell him this news, he would have expected it to have been Ron. Were they growing apart, or were things just changing? Harry wasn't jealous, he didn't know what it was. He felt like, since the attack, he'd missed milestones that were now being revealed to him through a window, without having lived them. He felt happy for Hermione, but a little mad at Ron for not telling him first.

"Oh, that's great," Harry told her, trying to sound happy for them, and he was ashamed of himself for wondering where this left him. It had always, always been the three of them. He didn't know why he felt so uneasy.

At the end of the Quidditch practice, Ron touched down in front of them, asking Harry how he was holding up. For yet another time in that same day, he found his voice and said, "fine," but something in the way he said it, indicated otherwise.

All the way back to the castle hardly anyone spoke. Ginny had composed herself and, for being in close proximity to Harry, maintained a normal, non clumsy stride, which was actually unfortunate now that Harry was trying to detect any indication that she might like him, other than just wanting to comfort him while he was ill.

Easily disappointed these days, Harry reasoned that Hermione must have just told him that Ginny liked him to make him feel okay about she and Ron's date to the dance. He felt he wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they tried to get a pity date for him, so he decided then and there that he would go to the dance alone or not at all.

Ron began to feel uneasy when he noticed that everything he said or asked Harry was always responded to in one word answers, or sometimes just "mmm" or "nah." When Hermione and Ginny had left that night, and Ron and Harry were alone in their room, Ron finally asked, "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," was the too immediate answer from Harry.

"Well, something is, spill it. Do you need something?"

"Yeah." Harry suddenly sounded forceful, taking Ron completely by surprise. "How come you didn't tell me you were gonna invite Hermione to the dance?" he blurted out.

"Ron looked crushed. "I...I...I'm sorry Harry, I didn't know you liked her. I never would've..." Harry was shocked at Ron's reaction, so shocked he lost all the hurt he'd felt about not having been told beforehand by Ron himself, instead of finding out from Hermione.

"I don't," Harry said so forcefully that Ron looked taken aback. "I mean, of course I like her...just not like that. That's your department, mate, has been for years." Harry smiled despite himself. "Just, why didn't you tell me?"

"Truth?"

"No, lie to me!" Harry answered sarcastically.

"I thought she'd say no and I figured I'd never live it down." This answer was so unexpected and believable that Harry felt a hundred percent better about it already. Maybe he would have done the same thing in Ron's place. "Only just asked her before the practice," Ron explained, making Harry feel even better. It hadn't been a long kept secret. "Probably would have gotten on my broom at practice and kept right on going if she'd said no," Ron added with a shudder.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have a great time," Harry began as Madam Pomfrey came in to see how he had faired outside, and to see that he'd eaten properly. She still fussed around and took his pulse, and checked his chest and the whole routine.

"I think we should start applying that scar removal salve that Professor Snape has made for you, twice daily, instead of just once. It seems to be working wonders with that surgical scar on your back. Perhaps in nine months or so, both the back and chest ones will be faded almost completely. The massive scars on both his back and chest would normally have still been very raw, and though nasty looking, they were very much improved for the time that had gone by.

"Pity it won't work on curse scars," said the matron, reading Harry's mind. "Not too late talking, dear, you've had a very busy day." Something in the way she glanced at Harry's broom, made him wonder if she knew about his flight.

Now that she was gone, and unlikely to return unless summoned by the button next to Harry's bed, they were free to talk again.

"Hermione had just gotten a letter from Viktor Krum. They've been writing, you know?" Ron went on without waiting to hear Harry's reply. "Well anyway, it seems our Vicky told Hermione about a girl he met while playing in the finals for the cup in France. They're going steady now, and apparently letters from him have been more pen pal type, than the 'come visit' ones like before, so I just kind of...asked her...it wasn't planned, just a quick blurt. I barely believed I'd done it myself and before I knew it, she was saying 'yes' and kissing me on the cheek!"

Now Harry wondered why he'd worried at all. He should have seen this coming. Ron had wanted to ask Hermione out for years, or at least find out a way to stop her from corresponding with Viktor Krum. Harry still worried abou beingt a third wheel, and sensing this, Ron made light of it.

"It's nothing serious, just she'll be there, and I'll be there..." he began awkwardly.

"I know how a date works," Harry told him, but he figured, mistakenly so, that the two of them would want to be alone at the dance. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

"Only now Harry, you've gotta get a date," Ron coaxed. Harry felt Ron had said this so he wouldn't feel left out, but then the real reason came to light. "So Hermione will have another girl to talk to, and you know, girls dance together, so she won't expect me to fast dance with her!"

Dancing... '_Oh great!' _Harry thought. He hadn't given it much thought when he'd assumed it would be just the three of them...alone...together, but how was he going to get a date? He hadn't even seen or talked to most of the school at all this year, and no matter who he asked, he wouldn't be able to dance.

Harry knew Ginny loved to dance, and he couldn't ask her, when she wouldn't even be able to dance with her date. It wouldn't be fair. Harry knew Ginny didn't have a date, and he thought of enlisting Neville to ask her to the dance, after all they'd had one date for the Yule Ball back in Neville's fourth year, and he definitely had lots more going for him now than he did then. At least Neville could dance, but what was he thinking, Ginny Weasley could get her own date, thank you very much!

"You know who Neville asked?" Ron said, breaking Harry's thoughts of Ginny. "You'll never guess," he challenged, glad that Harry was taking all this well, "Luna Lovegood."

"That's nice," Harry said genuinely, and just a little relieved.

"Well, just a bit odd isn't she?" Ron replied.

"Sometimes I think, not as much as we might think. She's really not bad looking either," Harry mused, with some small wonder at hearing himself say that. "She'd surprise you," he went on. Ron had never known of the private conversations he and Luna had had about her life.

Ron seemed anxious to say something, but when he'd finally open his mouth to say it, he'd break off. "Harry?" he said , and it sounded like a combination of a comment and a question. "Are you going to ask someone to the dance? You know, I guess your first choice would have been..." he trailed off, not knowing what to say about Cho Chang, Harry's one and only previous date to the one and only dance he'd ever attended, and who now sat in isolation in an undisclosed location in the castle since her parol had been revoked for some unknown reason.

Harry's mind drifted to Cho involuntarily for a moment, and he felt very torn. He knew he never wanted anything to do with her ever again, but if she was innocent, he wouldn't have wanted her to face a lifetime of suspicion either. He had never seen the ugly glances Cho had shot at Ginny, or his nobility in this matter would have been tainted. He felt protective of Ginny, as protective as Ron, or more...

"Would you ever date again, if your date nearly killed you?" Harry asked only half joking, and that is when Ron took his opportunity.

"You know Ginny would go with you in a heartbeat," he stepped in quickly. "And I'll personally guarantee she won't try to kill you, unless you try to be fresh..." Ron joked, hoping Harry would bite.

"Ron...she's your sister."

"So?"

"So..."

"It's kind of no different than you and Hermione. How do you think I felt asking Hermione out, and having to tell you about it later. Hermione's as close to a sister as you're ever going to get, mate."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry admitted. Harry had never felt jealous of Viktor Krum like Ron had done, who had been driven mad by their date.

"Harry, she's liked you before she met you. Yes, I'll admit it," Ron said, putting up his hand to stop Harry's next predicted comment. "At first, she just like the idea of you, the whole hero thing, but she's getting older now. She could barely function when you were in St Mungo's, and I don't think it was just a crush anymore. One night she was crying and I went to see her. She said she'd always kept you on plateau, not like a mortal, then all this happened..." he said, gesturing around the hospital wing. "She knows who you are Harry, and she sees you for what you are, it's not just a crush anymore, she really cares for you. I can't even believe I'm telling you this. I promised I wouldn't." If Ron could convince Harry to ask her to the dance, this was the speech to do it.

"Okay, I'll ask her, but I'm telling her she can dance with anyone she wants. I can't expect her to sit around with me all night."

"Oh, Harry, don't do that mate," Ron warned. "If you tell her she can dance with anyone she wants, she'll think you think she has to get your permission. Trust me, mate, it's a whole women's lib thing, don't want to open that can of worms, especially when Hermione finds out about it," he added with a shudder.

The next morning with a mere six days to go until the start of Family Week, Harry took a deep breath and called Ginny aside after breakfast, under the guise of discussing her interview for Professor Binn's essay on the rise and fall and rise again of Voldemort. As Ginny fumbled in her bag for a quill and some parchment, Harry casually asked her who she was going to the dance with.

"Oh, no one in particular," she replied, dropping her quill, and spilling the entire contents of her bag while stooping to pick it up, and to top it all off, hitting her head on the underside of the table when standing back up. Harry began another volley of questions as she rubbed her head, rumpling her long red hair, while Harry found himself fascinated by this.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, thanks,"

How's school going?"

"Well, you know, O.W.L.S."

"Broom working okay?"

"Okay enough for an old one."

"Weather's been nice."

"Yeah."

"Wanna go to the dance with me?"

"Yes," Ginny said, and Harry wondered if she was truly listening or not, but he wasn't going to stick around long enough for her to figure it out.

"Great! I mean...good...thanks..." Harry was immensely relieved to have that over with. "Well, goodnight then..." Ginny giggled at him. It was morning, bright daylight. "I mean...see you later...Have to go do my workout." he muttered, and as he left, Ginny could have sworn she had heard him calling himself a babbling baffoon. She stood smiling after him.

'Bye!" she called, glad to have that awkward moment over with. Now, Harry had another pressing matter on his mind. Ron had said that Hermione had kissed him on the cheek when she had accepted the date with him. Was it a bad sign that Ginny had not done the same. Would this uncertainty never end?

A/N hi, just a little romance...nothing much happened but it has to start somewhere! A major battle is upcoming on the grounds of Hogwarts in a couple of chapters. If anyone has time, please read my new challenge at SIYE called 'Dare To Dream' Don't worry , it's short story!


	32. DIRTY BLOOD

Ginny hadn't asked Harry about the essay for Professor Binns, and he wondered what this could mean,that was until Colin Creevy walked into the Hospital Wing. Since Harry was visible in the common area of the ward, he could not retreat to his private room without being seen. Ron and Hermione had already left, knowing that Harry had a walking examination today with Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape and wouldn't want an audience.

It was the first time Harry had actually come face to face with Colin Creevey this term. Ordinarily, Harry felt annoyed with Collin's over enthusiastic manner towards him, but seeing how subdued he seemed today, Harry took it upon himself to speak first.

"Hi, Collin, how's everything?" was all he could think of to say. Usually this mere general inquiry, would have been an open invitation for Collin to begin a huge, excited, highly detailed account of everything in his life since he had last seen Harry, but now as Harry looked at the boy, he realized with surprise, that Collin Creevey, though still rather smaller than the rest of the fifth years, was growing up. When had this little clingy boy become fifteen? It seemed he'd almost caught up to Harry and Ron.

'Oh, I'm fine," Collin replied, and left it at that, though he did look like he'd had more to say. Harry felt sure he knew what was coming next. He, being in the same class as Ginny, would want an interview with Harry too, but to Harry's surprise, this was not why he'd come.

"We've been learning a little more about He- Who- Must- Not- Be- Named in History of Magic classes, and well...I just never realized...I mean, I always knew, but I never got it...what your life's been like...This past summer when I thought you were dead..." He looked around to see if anyone was listening. "I felt really bad...I always followed you around, taking pictures for my family back home, but I never realized that all the time, I could be making you hate me."

"I could never hate you, Collin," Harry told him, thinking, 'boy this conversation sure got to the point quick.' Collin still talked remarkably fast, faster when he was agitated. He looked relieved to hear Harry say this.

"Anyway, when we came back and found out you were alive for the first time, I thought Malfoy would have a heart attack. He kept saying things like, 'not for long,' and stuff and asking me if I had any pictures of you in your coffin."

For one split second, Harry feared that Collin may have resorted to this, then he knew that Collin would have more tact than that. Pictures of someone burping slugs was vastly different than this. "Anyhow, I was offended," Collin went on formally. "I punched him right on his perfect nose and got a week's detention for it from Snape, but it was worth it," he added with so much relish, that Harry smiled just thinking about it.

"Um, thanks for that," Harry said, impressed that Collin hadn't resorted to any magical confrontation, which would have brought two week's detention and possible expulsion. "Do you want some tea?" Harry asked Collin, who looked shocked at the invitation to stay.

"Um, yeah ,thanks," Collin replied, but seeing Harry stand for the first time since his 'death' with the use of a cane, made Collin quickly offer to make it for them.

"No really Collin, I'm fine...honest," he added, as Collin looked at him with concern.

"Thanks," Collin said, almost spilling the tea in his scramble to move his carelessly placed school bags, fearing Harry may fall over them. "It's okay, Collin, I'm almost all better.

Collin waited, almost holding his breath until he saw Harry sit safely back down with his tea. "I guess I really came down here to tell you that Dennis and I have really been practising the things you taught us in the DA, and word has it that you wanted anyone with different abilities to share them with the rest of the class, so that's why I'm here...besides telling you that I'm doing great on my O.W.L.S. thanks to you.

When Harry heard Collin audibly lower his voice, he could have sworn that Collin somehow knew of the prophecy and of his having to kill or be killed by Voldemort, based on what he said next.

"Harry, I want you to know that I'm not just that dumb little kid following you around anymore. If I follow you again, it will be to fight beside you and for you. I want to start practising again in the DA. and I'm not bragging or anything, but wait 'til you see what Dennis and I can do now! We can teach what we learned too."

Harry didn't show it, because Collin's sincerity touched him, but he doubted the Creeevey brothers would have anything of much value to the DA, but he was wrong.

"Do you remember when Professor Moody taught us about the Imperious Curse, Harry?" Harry didn't know that 'Moody' had passed his knowledge on to the third years at the time as well. That Professor Moody hadn't been a real professor at all, but a Death Eater using Polyjuice Potion to pose as the real Moody. He had really been one of Voldemort's most loyal servants, Bartemus Crouch. Now, with a shudder, Harry asked Collin what it was he was getting at, regarding the Imperius Curse.

"Well, I can...that is, we can, do it now...Dennis and I, when we're together that is. We haven't mastered it on our own yet," he started apologetically. "Sorry..."

"Collin, those are Unforgivable Curses," Harry stated, "but besides that, what are you sorry for? That's really advanced magic!" Harry was not a fan of breaking the law, but he had been under Unforgivable Curses himself, and a part of him was intrigued and wanted to know more, and he felt that anything would be fair in a fight against Voldemort.

"Well, before we had time to think about these curses being Unforgivable, and I should tell you, it's not a concerted effort that started all this, so it was really very innocent to begin with," Collin excused himself, very fast like he used to when he'd follow Harry everywhere. "We can put the Imperius Curse on just about anyone, or anything, but I can't see it being unforgivable if you can't help it, at least at first..."

"Anyway, mom and dad are Muggles, you know? They knew that you'd died of course, but not the circumstances. Mom tried to get us out of the house and gave us movie tickets because we'd been really down, and of course all we would talk about was you in the theatre. A lady yelled at us to be quiet, so we got insulted and casually joked about how it would be nice to make her get up and make horse noises. Somehow we ended up laughing, picturing it, and then, unexpectedly, she did it! Got right up and started braying and galloping. Her husband was so embarrassed, he looked like he was going to hide under the seat. Well, Dennis and I looked at one another, and yeah..." he looked at Harry, who was looking about to say, 'you didn't!' "Yeah, we did, and the husband joined in, and I don't mind telling you, it went a long way toward cheering us up," he admitted.

"I guess so!" Harry beamed, glad that it hadn't been anything too unforgivable, so Collin just kept talking, clearly delighted that Harry was interested.

"Anyway, on the way home, we made a dog bark and dance around his mess until his owner picked it up. He was going to leave it on the ground. As long as we both concentrate on it, usually we're a success, separate though, we're rubbish."

"I don't know what to say. You have to be really really careful, it's still an Unforgivable Curse, you know. And speaking of which, what happened when you did it? Didn't you get a summons from the Underage Magic Department at the Ministry or worse? You could go to Azkaban for that!" Harry could not understand why Collin was still standing here and not in Azkaban. He had been nearly expelled for far less.

"Yeah, well as to that Harry, It seems every available wizard or witch was on reassignment to your...arrangements. We actually got away with it because of that. We were so panicked once we remembered it was an Unforgivable, every time someone knocked on the door, we nearly jumped out of our skins. It would kill our mother if we went to jail. We've always been, you know...nerds." We haven't done it since.

This was the best story Harry had heard all year. At least some good had come from his Muggle treatment, the Creevey's had been spared. Harry was in awe, and he wondered if the Creeveys would have been arrested for an Unforgivable if they hadn't really meant to do it?

'We're going to have to find some way to keep this under wraps," Harry advised. "It sure would be great if we could find some loophole to practice, but it would be dangerous, even with a Concealment Charm on the room so the two of you at least could practice without being caught. Only harmless things though," he advised. This was a hybrid of the Imperius Curse and technically, not labelled yet...Harry told himself, though half hearted.

"Dennis and I spent so many sleepless nights worrying about getting caught, but we were just so mad when we heard you'd died.

"I'm really sorry about that. I didn't even know anything about that myself. It wasn't my idea," Harry apologized.

"Well, as bad as that felt, we can't let it happen for real," he said earnestly.

Thankfully, the rest of the conversation was more upbeat, and Harry found that Collin was likeable enough. They talked about Family Week, Quidditch and school in general until Madam Pomfrey informed Harry that it was time for his evaluation.

"See you Harry. Oh, my mom, when she found out you were alive...and when she stopped crying in happiness," he rolled his eyes, "Made you this. She's a Muggle, but she figured you'd find a way to use it anyway. It's full of dried peas, and you put it in the microwave." He rolled his eyes again, embarrassed, "and you apply it to warm your back or whatever part of you is sore, and it helps with the pain," he explained.

Collin looked relieved when Harry accepted it graciously, explaining that he would use a Warming Charm to warm it, and that it would come in handy after his evaluation, even admitting that he felt pain, caused Collin visible pity.

"Thanks, see you Collin," he called as went with dread to see Professor Snape, who, as always, treated Harry with respect just when Madam Pomfrey was around.

Harry was given a kind of obstacle course, with and without the cane, and when he was finished, and exhausted, Snape seemed almost pleased. "Well done, there might be more to your constitution than I'd previously expected," he said, more for the benefit of the matron than Harry. Snape sat rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You may yet prove worthy of my little gift."

"Gift?' Harry didn't want to sound snappish in front of Madam Pomfrey, but whatever Snape had, he didn't want.

"Yes Harry, the gift I already gave you. Despite what the Muggles may say about having saving your life by giving you my blood..." There, he'd said it. From the lips of Snape himself, Harry had his blood. He went gray in the face immediately, and had to sit down and put his head down. It wasn't as if he hadn't already known it, but to have it spoken about so plainly...from the source itself.

"Mr Potter, what is it?" asked the Matron, handing him a cold glass of water.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Harry lied with resolve, sitting up straight, despite the queasy feeling in his stomach, and wishing Snape would stop.

"I had feared it wholly unwise for the transfusion to take place as it may pose...complications...for the both of us later, but as you were certain to die, the harm to you was to be weighed by the probability of your imminent death, versus a slow, methodical one, once you were caught."

Barely finding his voice, Harry was about to ask what Snape was talking about, when Dumbledore entered and asked if Harry had been told yet.

"Not as yet, headmaster." Snape seemed reluctant, but resolved to tell Harry something that clearly, Dumbedore felt he had a right to know and must have been important. With a little more encouragement, Snape went on.

Madam Pomfrey seemed supportive. "Go on then, Severus," she prodded gently.

"Potter, I was your age once." Snape stopped, realizing only now how foolish this statement had been. "I was once a Death Eater for reasons I will not name now, nor will you ever know, but know this. There was more than one reason why Voldemort was able to summon you in your sleep...because of my blood."

As Harry was about to get up and shout, Dumbledore shot him a warning look that clearly meant, 'let him continue. He had been about to launch into an all out fight, but his respect for Dumbledore allowed him to subdue his will for the moment.

"I believe you saw the brand, the Dark Mark, burned into my flesh when I tried to convince the Minister Fudge that the Dark Lord had indeed risen again, did you not Potter?"

Harry, who was supposed to be asleep at the time of Snape's revelation to Cornelius Fudge in his third year, had clearly seen the mark on Snape's forearm. "It is very much like your scar, Harry." Snape had never called him Harry before. "That mark does not remain only on my flesh, it is part of me, part of my body, my blood..." Snape sat down, clearly not knowing how to continue, for once at a loss for words, cruel or kind.

"Professor Dumbledore continued. "Professor Snape came to me immediately about his concerns about this unfortunate transfusion. Most unfortunate for you to have shared his rare blood type...Professor Snape was concerned that when he was summoned, you now bearing his blood in your body, would also feel compelled to answer. Fortunately, that has not been the case, but it does seem to leave you more susceptible to individual summons by Voldemort. Professor Snape did not put it all together until long after your sleep summons, that every time you had been summoned by the telephotus dreams at first, he had felt the burn on his forearm, the customary summons. In your waking hours, of course, the blood being watered down so to speak, you were not vulnerable like when you sleep and let your guard down, so it would seem, that at least at first, Voldemort summoned purely by accident and later sought to find a way to improve on his summons. Voldemort did not bargain for your close relationship with your friends to form a bond of summons between you and your friends.The power of love that you share... there is no other explanation for that aspect of this situation. You better than anyone else, can appreciate how powerful the bonds of love are over evil."

Harry sat trying to figure out where this was all leading, until Dumbledore explained further. "Professor Snape has been working tirelessly to find a way to somehow use this unfortunate transfusion to your advantage, and we now know why the sleep telephotus dreams seemed to have stopped as quickly as they began. Your own body, has by now, shall we say, watered Professor Snape's blood and replaced it with your own blood supply. When you were brought back here to Madam Pomfrey, she began treating you with a very strong blood restorative potion. Her diligence in this matter may have saved your life again, for if the dreams were to continue, we now know after careful study, that they would have succeeded in leading you to Voldemort through Professor Snape's blood."

Harry fought very hard not to just stand up at that moment, and tell everyone within shouting distance that Snape was a double agent. "He knew his blood would lead Voldemort straight to me!" Harry seethed.

"Yes, Harry," replied Dumbledore in that quiet calm he reserved for volatile situations such as this. Snape stared at Harry as if he were Harry's age and Dumbledore was breaking up a school yard fight. He was sullen and looking scandalised. Snape looked about to say something, when Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Professor Snape explained to me that there was no other way to preserve your life, and that, had you not received his blood right then and there, you would surely have died. At that time, we did not know what effect if any, the exchange would have on you. He did the only prudent thing he could and chose the only available option, proceed with the transfusion or watch you die."

"And you believe he only found out now?" Harry asked incredulously... "When you know...what he is?"

"What he was, Harry, what he was." Harry took deep breaths to calm himself down. "So all this s

Sleep Occlumency, this monitor, all for nothing!" he stared around at them. "But I'm clean now...clean from his contamination...his blood?"

"As for being summoned for now Harry, we feel the answer is yes. The blood sample you gave recently revealed little reaction to the summons now."

"And you would know that how?" Harry demanded of Snape, not even looking at Dumbledore.

"Because Potter, when the mark burned on my arm, your new blood sample did not boil in the flask, whereas, one's taken previously from you at St Mungo's and shortly after your arrival here, boiled like fury at every summons." Snape instinctively placed a hand over his forearm at this statement.

"You should be grateful to Professor Snape, Harry. This means the monitor will not be necessary and should push up your release date from the Hospital Wing," said Madam Pomfrey, trying to cheer him up, and failing miserably.

"Can I go, only I need a scalding hot shower," Harry breathed, feeling filthy. A Death Eater's blood had chorused through his veins.

"You may go in a moment, but don't take a really hot shower, you may get light headed." she advised.

"I want to go, so what is the but?"

"You are intuitive as usual, Harry," Dumbledore congratulated.

"We are working on ways to have this experience work in your favour. The Dark Mark is a kind of identification method used by the Dark Lord, and we are still working on your blood samples to try to build in you some sort of immunity, almost like an inoculation to any summons except hands on of course," the old man trembled.

"Don't go all mad scientist on me," Harry freaked out. "I'm having nothing to do with your blood...or any other Death Eater's blood...okay, former Death Eater." He looked at the Headmaster with resolve. "Ever ever again. Have the nerve to talk about dirty blood in what you Slytherins call mudbloods...It's your blood that's dirty!"

Snape had once again received the warning look from Dumbledore and hung his head in frustration. "Harry, accept it or not, Professor Snape saved your very life. He does not seek to deliver you to Voldemort or any such thing. If there was a way for me to show you, to prove to you... Harry, people make mistakes, huge ones. I believe in Professor Snape, and for now, I'm afraid you will have to do the same, and therefore I must insist that you submit to another blood sample."

This was it. Harry flatly refused and made ready to leave. The day had turned from prospects of fun filled weeks ahead, to, 'yes Harry, he is a Death Eater, former Death Eater, whatever!...Now just give the nice Death Eater your blood and he'll be on his merry little way.' The door slammed and locked before Harry could even reach it.

"Professor Dumbledore I must protest! Haven't you troubled the poor boy enough for one day!" Madam Pomfrey was red in the face and looked about to cry.

"Yes Poppy, but I'm afraid this is vital to his future safety," Dumbledore told her soothingly.

"Harry, you know it won't hurt, right? Remember?" she reminded kindly, like he was four years old. He did not have harsh words for the matron, she had only ever been kind to him, but come on, even if it were a needle, he'd gone through so much pain already, he probably wouldn't feel it anyway, he thought. It wasn't that, it all came down to Snape's blood. He closed his eyes and suddenly all the talk of blood brought it all back again.

He was in the graveyard again, Cedric lay dead, and he felt the knife rip the arm of his robes, and Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew, rob him of his blood for evil purposes. Harry kept his eyes shut tight, not knowing for a small moment if this was real or recalled in horrible memory. He held the crook of his assaulted arm tightly and rocked back and forth. He was oblivious to their words.

"That is it, Severus, Albus! I must insist you leave the boy in peace at once!" Madam Pomfrey had her hands on Harry's shoulders and was shaking him slightly. "Harry dear, it's alright, nothing will hurt you here. You're alright..."

Harry awoke from the daydream with sweat dripping from his brow, despite the chill of the October day. Still, they did not go away and leave him alone. Please, won't they just leave me alone! He pleaded inside his own head.

"Poppy, if this were not urgent, I would suggest waiting to be a prudent course of action until the boy can fully appreciate what this might mean, but there is no time to waste. This is very complicated process and the sooner we retrieve another sample, the sooner the answers may be found, if indeed there is anything good that can be obtained from it," Dumbledore tried to explain.

Dumbldore became unusually harsh in his next sentence, but it pained him to his heart to have to do this now, when the results would probably be months away. If he could have promised instant gratification from all the unpleasantness, he would have done so, but Dumbledore had always promised Harry, that he might not tell him everything he wished to know, but he would never lie to him. Not only could a vaccine against Voldemort's summons come from this sample, but possibly early warnings of danger, better even than Harry's curse scar.

"I am very sorry Harry, but as you are a minor, we can make you submit to a blood sample, but I know you are almost a man, so you won't make me do that." Harry was furious. He'd acted like a man more than Snape had in his entire life. "Poppy, Severus, please give Harry some time. He has had to take a lot in, in a short time, and this can't be easy. Harry, we will come back by eight o'clock, rest for now.

Harry stood up shakily, very abruptly, startling them all. He glared at Dumbledore and rolled up his sleeve. Before he could change his mind and would have to be restrained into giving the sample, Madam Pomfrey carefully placed her wand to the crook of his arm and she cringed, seeing that he still bore the marks from where the intravenous had been for so long.

"There now dear, that wasn't so bad was it?" Harry knew she was only trying to help, but he was annoyed.

"There isn't enough rest, hot water or soap that will ever make me feel clean ever again, now that I know what you're doing," he glared at Dumbledore. His anger with Snape was to be expected, but Dumbledore was the one person who was supposed to protect him, not threaten him and make him feel like a coward, that was Snape's job, and he did a very fine job of it too. Harry turned to Dumbledore, pushing his sleeve back down, with a demand. "I want to know whatever comes of his little experiments. It's my blood and my right!" he asserted.

Dumbledore looked relieved at this request, fearing it could have been worse. He agreed to Harry's demands immediately, which seemed to soothe Harry somewhat. "And while we're on the subject, What is Malfoy doing anywhere near my blood? His father's a Death Eater. He's in Azkaban for it," he said evenly, staring into Dumbledore's eyes for an answer he would not accept going unanswered.

Dumbledore looked apprehensive to tell Harry what would surely put him over the top, if he wasn't already there, but honest as ever, feeling Harry had the right to some answers, and hoping it would calm the poor boy, he answered. "Lucius Malfoy has been released on his own recognizance until his trial. The few, shall we say, who were spared the axe by the acting Minister of Magic himself, has said that there is insufficient evidence to prove that Lucius Malfoy being at the Ministry of Magic on the night of the attacks, was for any other reason than coincidence and diligent working late in these times of trouble. His very connected representatives, who have sworn testimonials that Lucius Malfoy had been working late every night that week on special business for the Minister himself, not to mention his vast charitable work for the hospital..."

"Yeah, for people he put there in the place!" Harry was finding it difficult to focus on any one specific injustice. It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on him. If he'd been nearer to a chair, he would have sat. As if in answer to his next obvious question, Dumbledore at least let him know, that they at the school had only just learned of the release, so it wasn't a long held secret.

"But sir..." Harry had no idea what to say. Dumbledore was sufficiently angry about the turn of events for both of them, which in a strange way, helped Harry to calm himself.

"Justice will prevail, Potter." Snape put in, obviously in an attempt to please Dumbledore and the Matron. In what warped twisted way did Snape mean, 'justice will prevail?" A shiver went down Harry's spine, as Snape swirled the vial of Harry's blood. Looking at it as though he could break a genetic code just by looking at it.

"Draco Malfoy, though he is his father's son, has been accused of no crime, and as such, enjoys the same rights and freedoms as other students...for now," Dumbledore added.

'Rights and freedoms? You mean like my rights and freedoms...like being threatened to give my blood willingly or have it taken, just like Vol...just like he did to me...the right to have pain every day, not to play Quidditch, to live in the Hospital Wing?" Harry was feeling weak at this point, but damned if he was going to show it.

No one had an answer for Harry, and they knew he was right, but all he was told was that Draco was an accomplished potions maker, and this was a very very advanced and complicated process, and lastly, and Harry didn't believe it for a minute, that Draco didn't know who's blood he was working on, or for what purpose. Tyler had told Harry the very same thing, and out of them all, including Dumbledore, Harry trusted him more. Harry did the only thing he could and asked them all to please him leave him alone and he went off to find Ron and Hermione and anyone from the DA what he had just learned about Lucius Malfoy, and hopefully get a more indignant response from them upon telling them the news.

"What!" Ron shouted angrily, which was just what Harry was looking for. "I heard that git Draco, is doing all that work for Snape for detention. Tell me he's not gonna screw this all up on purpose!" Hermione could usually be counted on to talk Harry down from his agitation with a reasonable reassurance, but this time, she was in full agreement with he and Ron.

"We'll have to keep a closer eye on Draco's leisure time," Hermione warned. "We need to speak to members of the DA and find people to discreetly follow him around.

"Speaking of the DA, Collin Creevey came to see me today," Harry informed them.

"Oh, your day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" Ron snorted.

"Actually, that part wasn't so bad. He's really growing up, no more Harry fan club, thank goodness. He was a lot more serious than I could ever have pictured him, though. Guess he and Dennis really had a hard time with my dying and all. Parents didn't want them coming back here. Said they could attend Muggle school just like they'd done before Hogwarts, but Collin said he'd feel like he'd been robbed of his senses if he was sent back to Muggle school. I know what he means," Harry said, remembering his unhappy days at school, being thought of as bad or nuts for things he did without meaning to, like ending up on the roof to get away from bullies, and the horrible feeling that he was so different.

"Fred and George reckon that the Creevey's will be very valuable DA members this year," Ron mused.

Surprised at this comment, Harry asked, "why's that?" He thought he was the only one who knew the Creevey's secret.

Apparantly, the Creevey's have shown Fred and George what they've learned this year, in exchange for some discounts on items from their store," Hermione piped in. "For Fred and George to be impressed, it must be some really really good stuff. Harry knew that the Creevey's wouldn't dare have done their version of the Imperius here at the school, so they must have learned more than Collin had let on. The DA would be very interesting this year, and it gave Harry something to look forward to, something to take his mind off his terrible revelations made to him today.

Harry didn't know why, but he expected, now that he'd found out that Ron and Hermione were going to the dance together, that they would act differently. He looked for signs of this, but even under close scrutiny, there was no change in the way the three of them interacted. Harry had never wanted to be a third wheel, and now he knew, he had very little to worry about in that department, at least for now.

As the three of them sat there, Luna and Neville popped in. Luna had a red flower in her hair, and although Hermione usually detested such adornments, she had to admit, on Luna, it suited. Catching everyone's glance at the flower, she told them quite proudly that it had been a gift from Neville,one of his hybrids. Neville flushed deep shades of red. It was hard for Harry and Ron to refrain from laughing, but at a glare from Hermione, Ron especially shut up, wondering if he should have given Hermione a flower when she'd accepted his invitation to the dance, not for her hair of course. Ron, having a flashback to their fourth year, of how mad Hermione had become when she felt they were taking her for granted as a girl made a mental note to get Hermione a flower before the dance. Given his past track record, he should have made a written note, too.

"How're you doing today, Harry?" Neville asked.

'Good," Harry replied, not wanting to go through his day again.

"Excellent, listen, after classes, could you come down to the greenhouses? I've got to show you something."

"Yeah, if I can get the okay from Madam Pomfrey, which until this afternoon, wouldn't have been a problem..." Harry wondered if the Matron would feel reluctant to let him leave the castle after she'd seen his breakdown and flashback that afternoon as it was. He'd almost been semi free to leave for short periods with his friends until now...oh well, if she said no, he thought, he really wasn't much interested in Herbology anyway, but then again, at least if he had to go to the greenhouses anyway, Neville would probably let him get some flowers for Ginny anyway. That thought was immediately followed by 'Oh no, I couldn't ask him for flowers for Ginny, he dated her once in fourth year for the Yule Ball. He suddenly felt awkward again, about having asked her for a date, but Neville and Ginny had never been a couple. Besides, hadn't he himself had a date, albeit a botched one, with Parvati Patil, and nothing had come of that either? He had daydreamed for so long, that everyone thought he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open.

"Harry?" Ron prodded gently, knowing how rough this day had been for his friend.

"Hm? What...what?" he stared at them all.

"Just checking," Ron answered, smiling.

Harry couldn't help thinking that life was bizarre. Only three months ago, three very long, uphill months ago, he'd honestly thought he was going to die, and now, here he was, worrying about girls, and yes, still about Voldemort succeeding, or by some miracle, and he was sure it would take one, he would triumph over his evil and finally be left in peace to live a normal life. Did he even have time to worry about such trivial things as girls? No, but it didn't matter, he found he just couldn't help nature.

Just as Harry had lapsed into yet another philosophical thought, Tyler joined them. Max leapt up from his sleeping spot, the foot of Harry's bed, and rushed to Tyler, tail wagging so hard, his whole body wagged with it. When Tyler sat, Max laid his head on his lap and went back to sleep.

It had been awhile since Tyler had paid Harry a social call. Most of the time lately, he had popped in and out to ask questions on behalf of Professor Snape, and Harry had only seen Stephanie at meal times. Just as they had launched into a happy conversation about the level of excitement in the castle about Family Week, the oddest thing happened. Max's nose went up into the air and as his eyes looked towards the door of the Hospital Wing, an orange ginger cat strode into ward like it owned the place.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione called in relief. Running up to the cat and picking him up into a cuddle, Hemione explained, "He's been missing for a week." Harry and Ron didn't have to ask Hermione why she hadn't told them. Hermione still firmly believed that Ron hated Crookshanks, despite the fact that he had tried to convince her otherwise. Ron had forgiven Crookshanks for harassing his pet rat Scabbers, for Scabbers had proven to be an Animagus, Peter Pettigrew, who had helped Voldemort in his quest to kill the Potters. Somehow, Crookshanks had known all along.

Ron actually reached out to pet Crookshanks willingly for the first time since the ginger cat had landed on his head three years ago at a pet shop in Diagon Alley. "Where have you been, eh?" he cooed at Crookshanks, who purred heavily, nuzzled Hermione and then curled up on Ron's lap.

Most of the rest of the day, had been taken up in tests, and the sun was now setting across the grounds, casting a pink sky in the background. It was the perfect time for a stroll to the greenhouses. Harry was feeling exhausted from all the stresses with Snape, but tried his best to conceal it well enough from the Matron, who gave him permission to leave the castle for a very short while. "The evenings are cooler now, and mind you two look after him," she called after Ron and Hermione, who promised her just that. Harry shook his head, wondering why on earth people kept directing care directions for him to other people. He was quite capable of judging when he'd had enough, but he did not argue, he knew better, so he just got his cloak and threw it around his shoulders in a show of good faith. He wasn't remotely cold. He was intrigued about what Neville wanted to show them all in the greenhouse.

A/N HI, if anyone has time, please read my challenge story on a site called SIYE. It is called 'Dare To Dream' and it is a short one shot. The story you are now reading is my first ever HP story and I think my writing has come a long way since I wrote this one. I could use the support if you have time, and thanks for the nice reviews! You have been amazing and I promise this story picks up again in action within a couple of chapters.


	33. Breakfast Of Champions

It was nice to be out in the grounds with all the fall colours putting forth their last bit of glory, before winter would carry it away. Harry automatically found himself looking in the direction of Sashu's nest. Even from this distance, he could see nothing. He would ask permission to see her tomorrow.

Neville wanted to prepare Harry for what he would see, but there was no words, so he led the group slowly to the back of greenhouse three, past his flowers and herbs, about which he said nothing. It was very slow going as Harry had difficulty manoeuvring around the huge vines that always snaked across the floors of greenhouse three, and he needed help from Ron and Neville to get over them.

Harry, who had been looking down, concentrating on getting over the last vine, was stunned when he looked up. Indeed, everyone except Luna and Neville were astounded. Growing in large containers on the floor, were, what was unquestionably, the most perfect broom wood, and the plant was already looking similar in many ways to Harry's Firebolt, except for the markings and the size.

"Neville, are these..."

"Growing? Yes. Remember when I found those broom tail clippings from your Firebolt in your waste basket, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, guessing where this was going.

"Well, I crossed the clippings with a few hearty varieties of self propagating species, like the Repetius Random, and well, it took. They've been growing half an inch a day, and if my research is correct, they should be almost identical to your Firebolt."

Everyone gaped at him. No one had any idea that Neville Longbottom would ever be able to carry an experiment to it's full conclusion. Harry couldn't explain why, but these plants made him very uneasy. Maybe it was because he'd always thought of his Firebolt as unique, a gift from Sirius, but he couldn't criticise Neville's project. It was remarkable. It had taken a vast knowledge of broom specifications and plants and even wild magic to grow these unique plants.

"At first, I had to plant the little pieces of clippings in the Room Of Requirment because Professor Dumbledore didn't want me to have to leave the castle after dark, and they needed watering every two hours to begin with.

"He was just like a new parent," Luna sighed dreamily.

"Something weird happened though. One night I went to water them with Luna, and I said, I wish we could grow one for every member of the DA, and the next day, I had gone from four, to forty four plants, but it must have been just a coincidence, because we don't have that many members..." he mused

Hermione said, "But this is the Room Of Requirement, maybe it knows somehow how many members we'll end up with." Just as everyone was about to launch into a heavy barrage of questions, they heard something heavy clatter to the ground and someone groaned. They turned to see none other than Draco Malfoy himself, who was just getting to his feet, after having tripped over one of a plant's large tendrils. He stood up at his full height, and glowered at them.

"What are you doing here?" he drawled.

"I should ask you the same thing, Malfoy," Neville retorted before anyone could say anything.

"Yeah, Malfoy," Ron said maliciously, remembering Malfoy's friends freedoms on the grounds, and he was free as a bird. "Fall off the wagon from being evil Malfoy, or just didn't get caught like your stupid bafoon friends?"

"The only wagon you're likely to fall off, Weasley, is the one that carries your dead ass out of here," Malfoy seemed to have gotten over needing his cronies to back him up, even facing this many of them. They all secretly feared he'd been listening in. Hermione picked up a piece of parchment that Malfoy had dropped when he'd fallen. On it, in Snape's unmistakable scrawl, was a list of ingredients that Malfoy was to collect and bring back to Snape's office, so he did have a valid reason for being there. Still, they wondered how much he'd heard.

"Oh, and Longbottom, maybe you could make poor old Potter a porch swing, looks like he's ready to retire, with that permanent limp and all. I expect he won't need any brooms, especially racing ones, ever again. Face it, your golden boy is all washed up."

'Sod off Malfoy. I can assure you that Harry's anything but washed up!" and with that Ginny pulled him into a passionate kiss. Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't. Malfoy left muttering about old purebloods and Ginny simply went back to looking over the brooms, though she wore a satisfied smile. Harry told himself that Ginny had only done this for the shock value it would have on Malfoy, and for now, it had worked. No one acknowledged what had taken place, in case Harry had a problem with Ginny once again, standing up for him. No objections here! This was so hard to read. Did she really like him, or was she just doing her 'job' and being a protective Weasley?

Deciding that all they could really do, was to keep their ears open for any sign of Malfoy's treachery, the friends made the most of the beautiful evening. Despite Malfoy's contempt, everyone was very fascinated with Neville's project. Harry noticed Ginny and Ron staring at the plants that were growing into replica Firebolts as if they were both thinking the same thing. Neither of them would voice it, so Harry broke the silent staring at the brooms by asking Neville, "Do you think they'll be useful?

Neville was never one to pat himself on the back, but as looked at Harry to answer, Harry actually saw some confidence in Neville's demeanor for the first time in a long while. "Yes Harry, I do," he said seriously. "I've measured them every day, and at this rate, they will be full size by the start of family week. I can't wait for my Gran to see them," he went on, for the first time expressing his eagerness to see her. It had touched Neville deeply when Professor Dumbledore had told him of all of his Grandmother's sacrifices on his behalf.

Ginny had been flying an old Cleansweep and Ron's broom could never compare to what these plants were going to become, but even now, nothing outstripped a Firebolt. Harry knew that they both were thinking of asking Neville if they could borrow a Firebolt for their first Quidditch match against Slytherin, just to watch Malfoy have a heart attack on the spot. Ron and Ginny were reluctant, or too filled with pride to ask this for themselves, so, not being able to watch the discomfort, Harry steered the conversation toward their goal. "So Neville, do you think these brooms will be ready to see action by next week, after all you're a Gryffindor."

'Well yeah, but we'd have to cut them from their roots, and...they'd die."

"Mine didn't die," Harry replied, surprising himself. He liked his Firebolt, but he'd never considered it alive, although now that it sprouted growth almost daily, he had to wonder.

"Why do you ask?" Neville asked, feeling somewhat better.

"Well, you know that the Slytherins have a huge advantage as they're all riding Nimbus Two Thousand And One's..."

"Well, Gryffindors all have Cleansweeps...or worse, except me, and since my Firebolt won't be gracing the field this year..." he remembered sadly... "It might be nice to see some new equipment out there this year on the pitch."

"I thought you were lending your broom to Ginny," Neville said.

"Can't, it won't let anyone else ride it, remember?" A look of blankness clouded Neville's face as Harry regretted having prompted him to remember something. Memory still wasn't Neville's strong suit, although he'd improved dramatically with help from the twins sleep learning. Truth was, Ginny hadn't tried out Harry's broom yet.

"Well..." ..Neville pondered the request. "I guess it would put Gryffindor's best foot forward, like Professor McGonagall asked. And I guess the team could put the brooms into pails of water before the match and during time outs..." Ron and Ginny were leaning forward eagerly without noticing. They wouldn't care if they had to feed the brooms fresh manure during a match if these Firebolts were anything like Harry's, and besides, the smell would infuriate the Slytherins. Picturing Malfoy's face, filled with contempt, Neville smiled and said, "Well, you'll need practice, so maybe I can plant prod them and have them ready for Friday. That would give you a few days to get used to them."

"Angelina's gonna kiss your whole face!" Ron said to Neville.

"Not if she knows what's good for her!" Luna smiled as she said this, and everyone was touched by the way Neville swelled with pride every time Luna complimented him. Neville picked a beautiful flower and gave it to her with a kiss. No one in the greenhouse would have expected that Neville would have a girlfriend before they did. The way they kissed, and the duration of the kiss, let everyone know that this relationship had been going on for a long time.

Ginny, in particular, couldn't keep her eyes off the couple, making Harry wonder if she wasn't remembering going to the Yule Ball with Neville in her third year and wishing that she was Luna right now. Harry's eyes followed Ginny's gaze to the couple, and without him knowing it, Ginny looked at him. To most people, Harry still looked rather pale and skinny, but to Ginny, he looked, well...kissable.

Hermione too, had been mesmerised by the sight. It looked thoroughly enjoyable. She wondered at herself for not having tried this before. She knew she was a studious know it all in most people's eyes. Sure, Ron had asked her to the dance, but would he ever kiss her like that? Hermione smiled to herself watching Ginny looking at Harry dreamily, while Harry didn't seem to notice at all.

Ron elbowed Hermione, smiling, pointing at his younger sister, staring at Harry, oblivious to everything else. They all left the greenhouse, Neville and Luna holding hands, Ron and Hermione lagging behind alone. Ginny went slow to walk with Harry, who tried hard to use his cane sparingly.

'Do you want me to carry that for you?" asked Ginny, noticing that Harry was carrying his cane for a few steps, no doubt showing off for her.

"Please," said Harry, not believing he's just accepted help from someone when he knew he could do it on his own. He didn't know why on Earth he'd accepted. When she went to take the cane from his grasp, their hands touched, and Harry didn't mind at all that they lingered in that position for some time. They fell behind the other four.

Harry needed the cane to lean on when not walking and he was slightly nervous that he would fall in front of her. What was he thinking? It was just Ginny, for goodness sake. Harry shivered, though it had nothing to do with his injuries or the late October dampness. He'd never really realized how pretty she was. She'd always just been Ron's little sister. Harry and Ginny didn't notice Ron run back, worried that Harry might be having a hard time.

"Alright Harry?" he asked, concerned.

"What? Oh, yeah, fine, fine, I'm fine, we're fine..." he stammered, handing the cane to Ginny and feeling like he'd better hurry up.

"Are you cold?" Ginny asked, offering him her cloak.

"Er...no...just..." was all he could manage, and Ginny smiled to herself, although she wouldn't allow herself to think that Harry Potter would want anything to do with her. Ron had offered to walk behind with them and was rather quickly dismissed, he thought.

Neville and Luna made quite a spectacle of themselves, sitting cuddled up on the stone entrance steps to the castle, in an embrace, kissing again. Hermione and Ron were going to sit too, but Hermione took Ron by the hand good naturedly and said, "let's give them some privacy." Thing was, she didn't let go of his hand when they'd rounded the large pillar to the left of the staircase. Ron looked awkward, but didn't let go either. He was tempted. He was tempted to talk about Quidditch, his usual nervous habit, and with the prospect of a new Firebolt, he almost took this avenue, but this was too nice...just right.

Ron towered over Hermione, and so, holding hands, it was nearly impossible to speak face to face. Ron wanted to suggest that they sit down, but was afraid their hands would part, and he'd be too shy to retrieve hers. Finally, Hermione sat, not breaking the hold. She put her head on his shoulder, which was actually his chest, because even sitting, the height difference was significant. Ron couldn't help but smell her hair, which was balsam fresh. As Ginny and Harry approached, they saw Harry stumble and broke apart to run to him.

"Half a minute, Ron," Hermione whispered to Ron, as they saw Ginny had it covered. She steadied Harry and gave him back his cane, supporting him on the other side. Harry had hoped no one else had seen this, and Ron and Hermione pretended not to. Luna and Neville wouldn't have noticed fireworks going off, they were too busy making their own. Harry knew that Ron had encouraged Ginny to help Harry through this, but he wondered if there was something more.

Ginny had had a crush on Harry for years, but had mastered it and even dated. Harry hoped that Ron hadn't asked Ginny to look after him, because she was acting like her mother, but in a different way. Harry wondered if this was the way a girl who liked you, acted. 'How could she like me...like this? What if she did like him? What about the gauntlet of brothers he'd have to contend with? What about all the teasing? And finally, just to ruin his newest emotions, What about Voldemort?

Harry had saved Ginny from Voldemort before. If she, like anyone else, attached themselves to him, she would be hunted like them. He didn't know if he could contend with this, as just being his friend would lead to exaggerated risk of attack from Voldemort. The closer you got, the more risk you incurred. With this thought, Harry straightened his shoulders and all but shook her off. "I'm fine," he said, but looking at the hurt look on her face, he added, "Thank you," awkwardly and inadequately.

"Don't mention it," Ginny replied dejectedly. She had hoped that Harry shared her feelings and she was ashamed of herself for letting her old crush make a fool out of her. When they finally reached the stone steps, Ginny announced, "Well, I'm off to bed, night all," and without a glance backwards, she climbed the steps and disappeared up the landing. Hermione shook her head sadly.

Neville and Luna had a hard time saying goodnight, and Hermione suspected that it was a good thing they came from different houses. Boy's couldn't reach the girls dorms due to magical barriers, but girls could reach the boy's dorms...

Ginny had gone straight to the Weasley's accomodation near the Hospital Wing, so Ron and Hermione sat in the lounge outside of he and Harry's room, while Harry had been intercepted for an examination by Madam Pomfrey as he tried to sneak in unnoticed and go bury himself in his four poster bed and never come out again, as badly as he felt for the way it had gone with Ginny. He didn't grumble about her fussing nearly as much tonight, as he feared that she wouldn't let him out again tomorrow, but what did it matter, he'd already turned Ginny off. He feared she would cancel out on going to the dance with him now.

"Er, Ron?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Yeah?"

"How were you with...you know, Ginny and Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, that was more than just helping," she told him, not believing he could have missed this. If she had done that with Viktor Krum, Ron would have accused her of being all over him.

"Well, Ginny really likes him, and Harry's a decent guy," Ron reasoned. It was inevitable that Ginny would date, and he would prefer it to be someone who respected her, who would protect her, and Harry had already proven to have both these qualities.

"You're a good brother...and friend," she added, slightly bumping her shoulder against his arm. Ron bumped her back, rather more roughly than he'd intended, and just managed to grab her hand as she was knocked over. He didn't let go. They looked at one another, and for the first time they embraced, not to comfort one another, not to congratulate one another, or for any other reason they'd managed to find up until now. Ron had to bend slightly to kiss her. He was beyond relieved when she tilted her face up to his, and they kissed, each wondering why, when this was the best thing they'd ever felt, that they'd never done it before. They didn't break apart until they noticed that Madam Pomfrey had emerged from Harry's room and was now looking at them.

"You can catch a cold that way, you know," she told them, although she smiled slightly upon having this sight meet her. She than embarrassed them no end, by reminding them, "nice and slowly there, Weasley," she winked. They both blushed bright crimson, and composed themselves before entering Harry's room, but looking at the two of them, made Harry laugh out loud

"Yeah," Harry thought to himself, "If I win, they will have a good shot," and he wasn't jealous, just worried about Ginny. He hadn't meant to push her away, he just didn't want her to get hurt.

As he and Ron talked later in their room, Ron finally said, "boy, get a load of Neville, eh?"

'Yeah," he's really something," was all Harry could find to say.

"I kissed Hermione tonight," Ron said so quickly, Harry barely heard him.

"Really?" Harry asked incredulously, and he thought the statement would be followed with Ron saying, 'and then I woke up!'

'Yeah," Ron said simply.

"Wow, where?" Harry asked, not knowing whether he meant location at Hogwarts or location on Hermione's face. It wouldn't be big news if it was on the cheek. Hermione kissed everyone on the cheek or forehead.

"A real kiss..." Ron said, trying not to sound too eager to tell all, but failing. Harry thought it would be weird to ask, 'how was it,' sohe listened intently as Ron described it anyhow.

"Amazing," he said dreamily. Harry almost wished he'd tried kissing Ginny. He thought of the times she'd been interested, but wasn't sure if he was mistaking fondness for interest, and waited to be safe not sorry. Besides, if he'd tried to bend to kiss her, he'd have gone butt over teakettle and made a fool of himself anyway. Of course, if this had been his only fear, he would have gone for it, but he couldn't allow Ginny to become involved with him wholly. He was too much of a target. Ron and Hermione could choose for themselves, they knew of the prophecy. As far as Harry had known, Ginny didn't, but somehow when he closed his eyes, he could remember hearing Ginny stoutly defending him, and trying to help when he'd been attacked by the Slytherins.

Harry thought about how protective Ginny had become this year in particular. "Who told her?" Harry asked point blank.

"What do you mean mate?" Ron asked, not having a sense of Harry's inner dialogue, being as he was still giddy, dreaming of Hermione's kiss.

"I told you and Hermione, because I thought I could trust you," Harry said bitterly.

Now Ron propped himself up on his elbow and stared at Harry, without a clue as to what he was going on about. He feared that Harry's mood swings that the doctors had warned them about, were not over, as he had hoped. Ron was a little annoyed to have his blissful evening ruined. "I still don't understand what you're talking about. Tell who what?" He finally demanded.

"What did you tell Ginny about the Prophecy...about Voldemort and I?" Harry demanded angrily. "You know, she's been bent on paying me back for saving her, and if I hadn't been half out of my head, I wouldn't have told you either... It's too dangerous!"

"Whoa! Harry, I never told Ginny anything!"

"Than, Hermione...They've been spending a lot of time together," Harry said in an accusatory tone. Ron was no longer angry, now that he understood where Harry was coming from. He didn't know how to tell Harry how Ginny had found out about the prophecy. It would mean he hadn't told Harry something, that he was holding something back. He had known all along that his sister had known something she wasn't supposed to have been made privy to. Harry now went down the list of people who knew, and his mind turned to Neville, glad to clear Hermione's name. Did Neville tell Luna? From there, it could go anywhere.

"That's why she's been hanging around me so much, wanting to go to the dance with a guy who can't even dance..." Harry's voice had gone from anger to sadness.

"I didn't tell her Harry, and neither did Hermione, or Neville," Ron said so sincerely, that Harry couldn't help but believe him.

"Than who?"

"Er...er...you told her about the prophecy, Harry," Ron said, in a barely audible voice.

"I...what?" Harry could not remember for the life of him, telling Ginny anything of the sort. It wasn't bad enough that she almost hero worshipped him, until finally growing more mature. "I don't remember Ron. I swear I don't. I would never put your sister in danger, Ron." Now Harry was apologizing, knowing what information like that would do in terms of making them targets of Voldemort's, even more than dating him would.

"It's not your fault mate," Ron assured him, though he would rather Ginny not know about the prophecy either. Ron watched Harry put his head to his knees, hands on his forehead, trying desperately to remember telling Ginny about the prophecy.

"Harry, it was while you were at St Mungo's. Ginny begged mom to let her stay with you one night shift when Fred and George had inventory. Mom finally agreed and for once, she spent some time with you."

'I don't remember, Ron," Harry said in alarm.

"Well, you wouldn't, would you? You were asleep. You'd just been given your medicine and Snape sat outside. Ginny sat reading by your bedside. Your heart rate went up slightly, and Ginny went to hold your hand, knowing you were having a nightmare...like you do..."

Ron remembered some of Harry's horrible nightmares with a shudder. He had been awakened by his best friend's agonized cries many times. "You er, told her yourself. You were screaming." Ginny came back to Grimmauld Place, crying her eyes out. That's why she didn't visit you much after that," Ron explained.

For some crazy reason, Harry was glad he at least had an explanation as to why Ginny had been absent from his life during most of his recovery. He'd never admit, even to Ron, that he'd missed the singing get well cards that Ginny usually sent him when he was sick or hurt.

"That's why we don't have Ginny, little sister, but Ginny warrior witch. She's obsessed with learning everything she can about you and Voldemort..." Ron stopped as Harry interrupted.

"There's no project...about me...for O.W.L.S. this year for Professor Binns... She's doing research." Harry realized that Ginny had lied. She had been researching him for her own purposes. "She asked me to help her on a project, on me," Harry informed Ron.

"Even dead old Professor Binns wouldn't be that callous as to set a whole project on the subject," Ron reasoned, getting mad at his sister for putting Harry through an interview about the most painful subject in his life. Harry felt the same way, but he was also relieved that the whole school hadn't been in on a real project about him.

"That's why she's training so hard, Harry. She really like you." Ron tried to apologize for his sister's indiscretions, but now Harry knew it was his fault that she'd learned about the prophecy in the first place. Ginny hadn't been studying for her O.W.L.S. as much as she had been about how to help Harry in his fight now that she knew what it was for certain.

"She's going to have to give this up," Harry said stoutly. "I don't want her around him." Ron knew who Harry meant. He wasn't sacrificing his sister, but she had so devoutly professed her love for Harry to he and Hermione, that they couldn't deny her. They had questioned her for days behind Harry's back about what she thought love was, since she and Harry had never even dated. Her answer had been so mature and heartfelt, that they believed her.

What had gone from a childish crush, had grown to love as Ginny watched the way Harry lived his life, always decent and stoic, always polite to everyone, unless they deserved otherwise. A gentleman, never asking for glory, but shrinking away from it and finally, willing to give up his life for others. How could you not love that? Ron would never betray Ginny's secret love for him, but knowing that Harry at least fancied her, made it hard to keep this secret. Harry was not confident in matters of admiration from the opposite sex. He was too humble. Once, in a moment of utter frustration, Ron had mentioned it to Neville, that he'd love to see Ginny and Harry together, and he'd been tempted to take Neville up on a scheme to send Ginny some flowers from 'a secret admirer,' to stimulate Harry into action, lest he miss out.

Harry had been feeling fairly well but now, he felt very tired and worn out. His private life would never be separate from the prophecy, because the prophecy was his life.

The two friends talked well into the night. Ron, who had been apprehensive that Harry would be livid with Ginny, and give her one of his explosive warnings about not getting too close, now knew that Harry would be gentle with her, if only for his sake.

"Harry, I know you're mad at her for not telling you what she knew, but she really..." He almost blurted out 'loves you.' Ginny wanted him to find out on his own. "Harry, promise me, as a favour to me, that you won't break the date to the dance. Ginny's been peddling Fred and George's products on commission to buy herself a costume. Fred and George offered to buy them for her, but she's independent. She's really proud of the costume, and it would crush her." Ron studied Harry's face to see if his speech had worked. She had lied to him...

Harry didn't think Ginny could like him in that way, just another protective Weasley like Ron and the others. She took after her mother, always fussing over him, however, as it was a favour to Ron, he could manage to wait until after the dance to steer clear of her for her own good.

"Thanks, Harry," Ron said, relieved. If only Harry could know how inconsolable Ginny would be if he had cancelled on her. She had tried on her new costume ten times, trying different shoes, different hairstyles, including one where you had to iron your hair, but in the end rejected them all, remembering that her costume, like Hermione's, was from the movie Grease, and so the hair would have to match the fifties rather than the seventies. For the first time in her usually tom boyish life, she also tried makeup. All Ron could hope for was that, after the dance, Harry would be as hopelessly attracted to his sister as she was to him, and finally having accepted his sister's new found strength, he could see a future for them. 'That would make him my brother,' Ron thought, but with all musings concerning Harry, the thought was quickly followed by...if he lives...'

Harry didn't want to question the look that Ron was now giving him, so he pulled up his covers and said goodnight. Minus the whole Voldemort thing, it had been a very eye opening, but enjoyable conversation, and Ron thought, something to look back on when they all sat with their children and families when all of this was over.

Harry awoke two days from the start of Family Week, very surprised to have slept through Ron getting up for breakfast. He was as nervous as he'd ever thought possible. Only one thing that didn't involve life and death had ever made him nervous before, and that was Quidditch. Now besides having to face the whole school in a social setting, Harry had other apprehensions. He had promised Ron that he wouldn't spoil the evening of the dance by questioning Ginny about her lie regarding the project on him that didn't exist and her reasons for having asked him at all about this very difficult subject. He hoped that he would be able to keep his promise, though he had felt very betrayed. At the same time he felt flattered. He had no idea how these emotions could intertwine, but when it came to Ginny, so quietly passionate about everything she put her mind to, especially it seemed when it came to him, it happened a lot. One minute he would be mad, the other, touched.

Although Harry had never much liked dancing, he felt now that it would have made the time go faster, that would now have to be spent talking at the party. The more talking they did, the more the subject would come up about the bogus project, but than with all the excitement of the students having their families at the school, Harry hoped they'd be interrupted often enough not to be able to stay on one subject for long anyway.

He got up slowly, and looked in the mirror to comb his hair, which usually just improved the bed head, but little else. The only part of Harry's face that he'd ever liked was his scar. He'd caught wind of some giggly fourth and fifth year girls admiring his beautiful green eyes, but he'd always dismissed this. Cho had so admired Cedric's athletic frame, that Harry, now looking at the rest of his body, wondered why Ginny would want anything to do with him. Sure, the muscles in his legs, long unused, were starting to fill in again, and Harry could actually see the humour when Ron had jokingly called him chicken legs before. Harry would have been deeply offended by this, but he took it as a sign of his continuing progress that Ron was berating him as usual again.

As Harry put on his shirt, wincing slightly at the spasm of pain in his back, he noticed how much more diminished the scar was on his chest, at least from what it had been. Still he wouldn't want anyone outside his circle of friends seeing it, and especially not Ginny. Realizing that for the first time, he could count every rib in his chest in the mirror, and that his collar bones were sticking out, he made a commitment to try to regain his appetite.

Harry was shocked to open his door and find everyone gathered that Saturday morning for a large breakfast cooked by Ginny. Her first ever cooking on a large scale. She smiled sweetly at him, and, draping a towel over her forearm, came up to Harry to escort him to his seat. He blushed deeply. Everyone, including the twins had the good sense not to say a word, although Mrs Weasley had quite a time hiding the smile that had come to her face, probably the first real one that had appeared there in months.

"What will it be, Harry? Bacon and eggs, French toast, Belgian waffles..." she beamed, as Harry noticed the other Weasleys and Hermione, shook their heads vigorously behind her back as she went over the menu choices for Harry. Ginny was so very pleased with the meal she had prepared, that Harry felt touched by her sincere belief that she was doing something good.

"Er, thanks, waffles please," Harry answered as he heard an audible groan from Fred, who had ordered the same. Harry just figured that even if they didn't taste very good, they would be a start to bulking up, and he had, after all, committed himself to finishing the whole meal from now on.

Ginny was watching him expectantly, as was everyone else, though for very different reasons. Harry, feeling very self conscious, raised his fork to his mouth. "Mmmm...good!" Harry praised, wondering if it was the lingering tension in his jaw from where it had been broken, or if it was the fact that the waffles were so hard, that they were nearly impossible to chew.

The worst thing was, Ginny watched him eat every bite. He smiled at her, while secretly being somewhat relieved that they were already in the Hospital Wing in case one of Ginny's guests needed their stomach pumped. This meal made him long for the half a grapefruit, he'd received so often at Privet Drive.

As soon as Harry had finished his last agonizing bite, Ginny promptly sprang up to get him another. He had no idea what to do, and was grateful to Mrs Weasley when she reminded him, "You've had a bit of a lie in Harry, so you'll want to eat lunch a little later, and remember, you need food in your stomach for your noon medicines, so save room."

"Er, oh, right, my medicine...yeah, I almost forgot," he stammered with a grateful glance at Mr Weasley who winked back at him.

"Oh, sorry, Harry," Ginny apologized, buying the excuse fully. "But no worries, I can cook for you anytime, unless I've got to study for my O.W.L.S.." Harry hoped Ginny would be swamped with homework, so she didn't try cooking again.

"That would be nice," he replied as sincerely as he could. Everyone was very relieved when no one came down sick. Hermione held her hand to her stomach, as they made their way out to the grounds for some much needed air. Ron had undone the top button on his jeans, a scene repeated only at Christmas at the Burrow, only this time it wasn't over eating, it was indigestion.

"Oh, my stomach!" he groaned. Hermione was very glad she'd worn pants with ties, so she could loosen the waist. Harry's pants, which had been too big for him since he'd been hurt, were almost snug and he found he could leave the belt in his room for a change.

None of them felt remotely normal until they had walked all the way down to the lake. Harry had been using his cane less and less each day. He wished he could have ditched it all together before family week, but it was not to be. Just walking by small groups of students, all of whom turned to stare, made Harry know he wasn't really ready to face social situations, but he knew he'd have a buffer of the Weaselys and Hermione's parents to keep his mind off it.

Ginny, who'd stayed behind to clean up, came up, cheeks pink from running to catch up to them. "I broke a couple of plates, so mom said she'd finish up. At least the food was good though," she said.

"Yeah," they all praised automatically, and Harry felt himself grinning at the pleasure on her face. She was just like Mrs Weasley when she tried to nurture. Harry found himself wondering what she would look like when she was older. He didn't know why, but the fact that her mother was still fairly good looking for her age, made him happy in that she would probably be the same.

Ron and Hermione had decided to jog to get rid of the full feeling, and now that Harry had company, they didn't feel guilty leaving him. Harry smiled, seeing them join hands once they had passed some trees and figured they were hidden. When they stopped, he and Ginny decided to walk in the other direction.

"They've been snogging each other's brains out," Ginny giggled. Harry felt warmth in his cheeks again. He found that he didn't want to talk about her lie about the homework. He just wanted to bask in the fact that she'd made him breakfast, even if it was one of the worst things he'd ever eaten, and that was saying something after the cold tinned soup he'd been given by Aunt Petunia. He had to give his head a shake when he found himself wishing that he'd wake up to that kind of attention from her every morning.


	34. Lying for Love

When Harry tired, they sat on the edge of the lake. Ginny had brought along some of the leftover French toast, and they took turns throwing it to the giant squid who lived in the lake.

'OH!" Ginny gasped, as they were splattered with water, positively drenching them both. The water was cold, but the air was colder. Despite this, they were both laughing so hard they were speechless. Then Ginny saw them... bits of French toast everywhere. It was the first time the giant squid had ever rejected any food.

Harry thought very fast. "We'll have to mention to Hagrid that the squid is sick," he suggested firmly, hoping that Ginny wouldn't figure out what had happened. After rejecting the French Toast in a splash of disgust, the giant squid disappeared under the water, leaving ripples with bits of toast bobbing about.

"Well, you're drenched anyway, and Madam Pomfrey will have kittens if I let you catch a chill, and then there's mom... Hagrid's hut is closer. I should take you there to get dried off," Ginny decided quickly.

Relieved, Harry followed Ginny to Hagrid's hut. As they climbed the stone steps, they knew that Hagrid wasn't home, and Harry was now shivering cold. He pulled his soaked robes around him tightly to ward off the cold. He knew his thin frame wasn't helping either, with how cold he was.

Ginny knew that Harry was too tired to hurry back to the castle. "H... H... Hagrid must be with Charlie at Sashu's enclosure," Harry chattered. No one had answered when they'd knocked.

Sizing up the situation, Ginny decided to go for it. "Alohomora!" she commanded Hargid's door. Ginny ordered him to take his clothes off once they were inside.

"G G Ginny, in case you haven't noticed, Hagrid has no bedrooms. There's only one room."

"Oh Harry, don't be ridiculous, I've got six brothers, most of whom have no modesty at all," she laughed. "I've seen boy's underwear before." Harry didn't care if she had a hundred and one brothers. She would see him in his underwear over his dead body, he thought, remembering with a shudder that had nothing to do with the fact that he was freezing, the horrible Miss Ketchel's exhibition of his body in front of Hermione in particular. He now remembered too, that half the Muggle rescue helicopter team, were female, and he'd passed out, just after they had cut his clothing away so they could cut his legs off. He couldn't help but do a mental total of all the people who'd seen him in his all together. Didn't matter, Ginny wasn't going to join the club, this was different.

"Oh stop being a baby. I'll turn around," she huffed, in a manner that made Harry wonder if she'd been eager to see him naked. He didn't trust her to remain back to, so in his haste to get his wet clothes off, and wrap himself in Hagrid's massive comforter, he fell. He'd tried to be gallant, offering the chance to change first, while he turned away, but she was more concerned with getting him warm and dry.

Hearing the thud of Harry hitting the floor, she turned quickly around, just as Harry ripped the comforter from the bed and wrapped it around himself. "Ginny turn around!" he said indignantly.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he lied. His ego was bruised, and he'd it hit his back on the side of the table. Ginny knew better than to press. When he'd stood back up with a groan, comforter firmly around him, she turned around again. He was still shivering and needed to sit down.

Before she even got out of her wet clothes, she started a warm fire in the cozy fireplace. He felt the warmth rush over him, and he wondered if the warmth was all from the fire. "There," she said, "You can turn around now. Hagrid's spare table cloth fit around her figure like a dress. Harry had never seen Ginny in a dress since her third year. Things had changed for the better. She smiled as if she could sense his thoughts.

Harry's body went rigid, when to his complete surprise and appreciation, he to admit, she sat beside him, putting her arms around him. "OH, your hands are freezing," she noticed, pulling them toward her and blowing warm air on them, then she placed his hands on her cheeks, which were very warm. Harry was lost in his thoughts when she said, "I hope Hagrid doesn't mind, but you need some tea." She placed his hands back down. Harry almost didn't know what to do with his hands now. He could have just sat gazing into her protective eyes forever.

When she placed the steaming cup of tea into his hands, she pressed them onto the warm mug. Something Ron had said now drifted into his thoughts. "If you play your cards right, she'll do your homework for you all year," he had said in regards to Hermione. He liked what Ginny was doing for him better. Then, with a shock of surprise, he stood up, spilling tea onto himself and yelled, Ron!"

"What? Where?" asked Ginny, looking out the window. Her brother was no where to be seen, but there he was, in Harry's head, yelling accusingly, "What are you doing with my little sister!"

Clothes far from dry, Harry ordered Ginny to turn around, and he got dressed as fast as the wet clothes would allow. He knew where his mind had been leading, and he had to listen to his mind, before his body took over, and than there was the fear that Ginny was merely being responsible and had no intention of kissing him, like he'd been longing to do to her when she had been warming his hands. Ginny changed as well, and they sat sipping a new cup of tea together. Harry felt the feeling in the pit of his stomach return to normal.

Ron and Hermione had been kissing for an entire hour, but noticing the smoke of a fire at Hagrid's hut and knowing he was supposed to be with Charlie, they went to investigate. When they knocked, Ginny answered, grateful they hadn't arrived fifteen minutes earlier. Harry was still completely panic stricken.

"It's not what it looks like Ron!" he exclaimed, as Ginny shot him a dirty look. Just exactly what did he mean?

"Easy, mate," Ron advised, not knowing what in the world Harry was on about. They hadn't even kissed, but Harry's conscious was guilty anyway. No matter what, this was his best friend's sister, Mr and Mrs Weasley's youngest child and only daughter...

Hermione, always quicker on the uptake than Ron, laughed out loud, but kept his secret. She figured that they'd at least kissed but she'd give them time to break it to Ron gently later.

After Ginny and Harry described what had happened, Hermione asked, in a practical tone, "Why didn't you just conjure a fire?" Harry could do this, and she knew it.

"Yeah mate," Ron said grinning. "Then you could have made it to the castle in warmth at least. In all honesty, neither of them had even considered one of the many useful charms that would have served them warmth. Ron trusted Harry completely, but he'd still have to have a talk with him later anyway. Harry knew this would happen if he got close to Ginny, but hee didn't even know if today had made them close, or if he had only felt it.

Breaking the awkward silence and knowing stares, was Hagrid's footsteps on the door step. They had startled him.

"What are you four doin' 'ere?" he croaked, tucking his new wand into his overcoat.

They explained what had happened, and Hagrid was very accommodating for having just found four uninvited and unexpected guests in his house. He also was curious about why they hadn't used a charm for warmth, but when he saw Harry blush and shift uncomfortably, he let it go, telling them about a time when he'd thrown some of his homemade rock cakes and scones into the lake for the giant squid.

"Fired 'em right outta the lake at me," Hagrid shrugged, as oblivious to his poor cooking as Ginny had been. Ginny looked at the floor, knowing what this must mean. Hagrid was a terrible cook. She suddenly felt very foolish.

"Oh Harry, why didn't you say something?" she asked, clearly upset.

"I didn't have the French Toast, I had the Belgian Waffles, Ginny. They were, er...good," Harry tried to lie. He smiled at her, and somehow she felt better about finding out that her first try at cooking a big breakfast, was a fiasco. The fact that he would eat it, just to please her, confirmed what she had been thinking while she had been warming his hands, she should have kissed him!

Harry smiled at her and somehow she felt better about finding out that her try at a big breakfast had been a fiasco. The fact that he would eat it, just because she had made it, endeared him to her even more, and inside, she felt good, but just a little like the silly little girl with the big crush.

"Thanks Harry, but next time, just tell the truth, okay? We don't want Madam Pomfrey on our case for feeding you bad food, and having to pump your stomach." Harry didn't tell her that it was something that had crossed all their minds, and as he looked at her with those big green eyes, she quickly forgot the whole thing, but vowed to herself to taste whatever she made in the future herself before serving it.

After saying goodbye to Hagrid, who'd filled them all in on Sashu and her babies, they made their way to the castle.

"Mr Potter go and change out of those damp clothes and put on a warm dressing gown," ordered Madam Pomfrey at once, but aside from this, she did not fuss. Harry was grateful. He rejoined his friends with a thick emerald green dressing gown, over his changed clothing. Everyone else was similarly clad.

"Wow mate, you must be getting better. Madam Pomfrey would have killed us if we'd brought you in like this even a week ago," Ron mused, feeling slightly sorry that he'd so occupied Hermione's time, that she had, for once, forgotten to be practical and had failed to place a drying charm on Harry and Ginny's clothes.

Just as they had started a game of exploding snap, Fred and George entered. They smelled strongly of peppermint, having spent most of the day trying to get over stomach aches from Ginny's cooking. Harry was suddenly more nervous than he had been with just Ron. He cringed, waiting for someone to slip up and tell Ginny's older, much bigger brothers about he and Ginny. 'Calm down, nobody knows,' he assured himself, for no reason at all. Nothing had happened. When it came right down to it, it had been really very innocent, but he doubted they would see it that way. Every time Harry encountered another Weasley, he shrank in apprehension.

They passed an enjoyable Friday, which was a holiday from school for preparations for family week. Harry couldn't help but think that Sirius and his parents would have enjoyed the dance in particular. After announcing that he was a little tired, he went to his room and closed the door softly. Ginny couldn't help but feeling a little put out that he hadn't said anything extra to her, instead of the blanket, 'see you later,' he'd given to everyone else.

Ron put a hand on her shoulder. "Give him time Ginny."

Hermione added seamlessly, "Every time he is reminded of family week, he's also reminded that he doesn't have his parents and Sirius...If you really want him, you're going to have a lot of times like this," she said gently, having been closer to Harry up to this point. Ginny wanted to go to him, but she knew that Hermione and Ron were right. They had gone through this with Harry for years, and for the most part, they knew when to leave him alone. No matter how many other people came into his life, none of them would fill that particular void, but she vowed to herself that she would help him. "I've got all the time in the world, Harry," Ginny whispered toward the closed door, as she passed it, touching the wooden door on her way out.

Madam Pomfrey checked in on Harry when he did not join them for supper. Although he assured her that her that he was fine, she examined him anyway, and finding nothing new, sat on the edge of his bed. "You need to eat Harry. Your body has been through a great deal, and you need your nourishment to heal," but Harry didn't feel like eating. The closer to family week it came, the more isolated he was feeling, lonely in a room full of people. Even the excitement of the afternoon, could not overshadow his sense of loss. He'd been doing so well dealing with Sirius's death, he wondered why his feelings picked now to betray him again.

Harry had a sudden idea. "Madam Pomfrey," he began sadly. "Do you know about the veil at the Ministry Of Magic?" Harry felt sure that, as an accomplished healer, the matron would have studied healing as well as cause of death.

"I knew it Harry," she frowned slightly. Harry knew that although she'd found nothing new physically wrong with him, she had picked up on his mental state, and it was bad, because she was calling him Harry again. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat to ask the one person he felt sure had witnessed many deaths, natural or accidental, what she thought the veil did to people who fell behind it.

"My Godfather, Sirius Black, you saw him two years ago," he explained unnecessarily. "He...fell...through that veil." Harry wasn't finished but he had to pause. Madam Pomfrey waited patiently. She wished she could mend his broken spirit as well as his broken body. Harry didn't have the heart or the nerve to ask if she felt that Sirius was indeed dead, but he had to ask. Part of him still couldn't believe it.

"Madam Pomfrey, you've seen suffering." The look that creased her brow was enough answer to that question. She was staring suffering right in the face at this very moment. Harry exuded it. He got up his courage and said, more to the floor than to her, "do...do you think he suffered?"

Madam Pomfrey's creased brow, fell slightly to one of surprise at the question. Harry described in a hollow, barely audible whisper, the look of surprise on Sirius's face before his disappearance from view. It had not been contorted in agony, and Madam Pomfrey told him, based on this and other studies done on that veil, experts felt ,though it was only a hypothesis, that the person entering the veil, in fact feels nothing once the body passes through it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help to you Harry," Madam Pomfrey apologized sympathetically. Harry felt somewhat better, just for having said his fears out loud. Harry had lied to everyone about being too tired for wizard's chess or socializing, but now, he really was tired, and Madam Pomfrey left him to his thoughts.

Now that he was feeling somewhat better physically, Harry was unsure how he should feel otherwise. He'd mourned Sirius the whole time he'd been confined to his bed. Now that he was allowed up, he didn't know how much fun would be acceptable while he was still in mourning. Harry sat pondering this, staring out the window as Hedwig sat contentedly beside him.

"Don't beat yourself up, Harry," Ginny told him, carrying a heavily laden food tray. Harry thought to himself, 'at this rate, I won't have to, your food will be punishment enough,' but aloud, he said, "Er, I'm not very hungry, Ginny, but thanks."

"I didn't make it Harry. It's from the kitchens." Harry sighed in relief, though he wasn't hungry.

"Madam Pomfrey's worried about your not eating enough. She's out there telling mom all about it. You know what happens when they get together. You'll be re confined to the Hospital Wing faster than you can say Quidditch if you don't eat more. I just heard them saying that you're burning more than you're eating. They'll make you stay in bed, and besides, you won't heal, so we can go for a walk again..." The way she said 'walk,' made Harry think that she had more in mind than just looking at the fall coloured leaves.

For a fleeting moment, forgetting his promise to Ron to show Ginny as good a time at the dance as possible, he almost considered that being confined to bed again, would mean that he wouldn't have to attend family week. He could just hide out in the Hospital Wing. He knew he was being selfish. He knew it would put a damper on the Weasley's and Hermione's family week, so typical of Harry, he dismissed his own preferences for others.

Once he'd started eating, he discovered he'd been ravenous. He ate everything on the tray and even the dessert. As he and Ginny sipped tea together, Ron and Hermione came in, looking like, 'we waited long enough,' and they asked Ginny, at once if Harry ate at all, not asking him.

"Yes, I ate," he grinned at them. "She made me." Hermione patted Ginny on the back. Harry sat on his bed, propped up with pillows that Ginny had just fluffed up for him. Hermione and Ron smiled at one another. Ginny was acting just like Mrs Weasley, with one very different, very important change. Harry found her very attractive, so getting him to do something wasn't usually a problem.

"Er, Harry I was going to ask you something. Yesterday, at Hagrid's hut, when I turned around after you'd fallen, I saw a pendent around your neck. I never noticed that before. Where did it come from?" Ginny inquired., causing Ron to raise his brows at the mention of the pendent. Harry always kept it hidden beneath his shirt. How had she seen it? They would have to have that talk later after all. Harry was still in a rather sorry state of loss, so Ron knew it could wait. He knew Harry hadn't had time to grieve yet. His real grieving was just beginning, because up until now, just surviving took everything he had, and now that he was on the mend, with nothing to do but think, he would feel the loss more deeply.

Harry almost wished Ginny hadn't asked about the pendent when he'd just had such a hard time with Sirius's death. Some days were worse than others. "It's um, from Sirius. I got it when I was in St Mungos," he explained, seeing the confused looks in their faces. Ginny had been at the Ministry when Sirius had died last school year.

"But...how?" she asked, trying to force the ridiculous hopeful little wish that had crept into the back of her mind.

"He wrapped it up for my birthday before he died," Harry said flatly, but he continued. Harry had had the amulet for long enough to figure out that some of the properties of a Foe Glass existed in it. It would shine violently red when someone Harry felt he could not trust, touched it. Harry didn't know how accurate it was, as his character judgement was out of whack lately, and now, every time Snape would lay his hands on him to examine him, or take blood, the amulet would not glow as it had when he had first touched it and burned himself on it. It did not burn Snape now, but nor did it glow wam against his skin every time like when Ginny unknowingly touched it through his shirt. Ron and Hermione had never touched the amulet, but it went comfortably warm against his skin when they were around. Harry's scar was not the only enemy detection he had now.

By Sunday, the excitement level in the castle reached it's peak. Despite having been told not to sell anything questionable from their shop, Fred and George were selling at a rapid pace, as students prepared to kick off family week a day early. Classes had been cancelled for the entire nine days of family week, but students in O.W.L.S and N.E.W. T.S. were reminded that the library would remain open.

Even Hermione was too excited to study, though she and the rest of Harry's friends gauged their visible enthusiasm according to Harry's needs. The last thing Harry wanted to do, was to ruin his best friend's time with their families. They had been there for him day and night all summer, and Harry decided he'd do his best to keep a stiff upper lip, despite the fact that this week, threw into sharp relief, the fact that he had no real family.

Harry sat alone in his room, trying to put on his very best brave face. He was determined not to be a burden on them this week. He carried the Gold Galleon that the Weasley's had given him to the window and sat, passing it through his fingers, fidgeting nervously.

"Harry dear?" came Mrs Weasley's voice. "You didn't come out for breakfast. Is everything alright?" Harry swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as quickly as he could, preparing to put on the best smile he could muster.

"I just wanted to let you know that I've taken care of a few arrangement for you. Dinners are being served on long tables all week, family style, so I took the liberty of putting you with us of course." She looked a bit worried when Harry didn't respond.

"That's okay, isn't it dear?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh, yes, sorry, perfect, Mrs Weasley, it's just that..."

"I know dear..." Mrs Weasley didn't have to say any more. Just her presence here made him feel better. She noticed Harry stop fidgeting and put the coin back into it's case.

Mrs Weasley went to Harry's dresser and took out the pocket watch he'd received from his parents through Sirius. "Perhaps you should wear this, Harry. You parents would be so proud." Mrs Weasley's eyes teared up as she said this. I knew about it for awhile. Sirius was really looking forward to giving it to you. They made him promise to wait until you were sixteen, knowing how impetuous he is...was," she remembered with a smile which had disappeared.

Harry was glad that Mrs Weasley wasn't trying to be falsely cheerful. He needed someone who felt miserable to be with right now. He was facing a week of false smiles and of reassuring everyone that he was fine, so it was nice to be able to admit that he didn't feel fine or good right now, just confused.

Mrs Weasley sat down beside him at the window, pulling his robes closer around his body, and getting after him for not wearing slippers on these cold floors. "Your feet are icy cold, Harry." she went to his dresser and got him a pair of woolen socks that Dobby had made for him.

"These are just the ticket," she said, ordering him to put them on. "You don't want Madam Pomfrey catching you letting yourself get cold. Your circulation in your legs still isn't quite normal yet," she reminded him gently. This is what a mother did.

Harry thought of all the mother's and father's days he'd missed, although at the Dursleys household, these holidays were usually just more excuses to get Dudley expensive presents, instead of the intended recipient of the holiday gift . "Oh, we were so happy our little Diddydums made us the proud parents we are," he remembered heaing Aunt Petunia simper, and he rolled his eyes. On more than one occasion, a kind teacher would suggest that Harry make a card for his aunt or uncle for father or mother's day while the other children made cards for their mother or father in art class.

Knowing the Weasleys had always been rather poor money wise, he wondered what Mrs Weasley had received all these past mother's days. He knew of no one more deserving than she. He could picture the Burrow's warm feel, with all the hand drawn pictures made by the Weasley children when they were quite small. She had cherished these pictures of artwork from their little hands, more than Aunt Petunia could ever cherish her Royal Doulton. He made a mental note, that now that he was an honourary Weasley, he should send a gift and maybe flowers next year for Mother's Day.

It seemed like a day to let his painful feelings flow, so he could purge himself of them at least for a little while, to face family week and try not to appear so transparently alone. As he and Mrs Weasley stared out the window together, each lost in their own worries and fears, Harry remembered another event from his past.

Uncle Vernon had taken Dudley to an expensive boutique to purchase a gift for Aunt Petunia. This was still at an age when Harry was still young and hopeful that one day, they would cherish him too. He decided to make a drawing of a beautiful black stallion. He knew that Aunt Petunia admired the expensive beauties, as she had many figurines dedicated to the subject. He worked tirelessly for a week, doing the best he could do with Dudley's old broken crayons. He only got crayons when Dudley was finished breaking and chewing on them.

For a six year old, or so Harry estimated he must have been at the time, it was a remarkable drawing. For one brief, fleeting moment, Harry had thought he'd made contact. Aunt Petunia stared at the picture for a minute, her face unreadable, before she put it down on the coffee table to open Dudley's expensive gift. The squeal of delight had said all there was to be said. Harry had seen his gift in the trash bin that same evening, along with the discarded wrapping paper. He did not bother to retrieve it.

Harry could not understand why so many memories flooded out of him when he was with Mrs Weasley. Sometimes they didn't even need to talk to convey a message, and any silence between them, had usually been comfortable. Mrs Weasley was trying to get to know Harry better, though she was as close to a mother as he had ever had. Harry told her about the picture of the Stallion for some reason. Ordinarily, he would never have mentioned it, not wanting to sound petty.

Mrs Weasley's eyes brimmed with tears. How she cherished every picture and card her children had made for her when they were little, especially Ginny's, which usually sang a cheerful, but somewhat off key tune for the recipient, though now and then Fred and George would send her owls with diagrams of their latest inventions on them, just to be antagonistic to her for not letting them join the Order of the Phoenix in peace.

"Oh Harry dear, I thought you knew. When Mrs Figg had dropped off her flowers for your Aunt's birthday, she had asked her what she had received. When Mrs Figg found out about your discarded picture, she waited until the middle of the night and removed it from the trash bin, and that old Mundungus Fletcher, drunk though he was, performed a cleansing charm on it to remove the birthday cake from it for her. She still has it , bless her," Mrs Weasley told him.

Harry just gaped at her. He never knew. Mrs Figg had always had to be rather distant with him, though it broke her heart. She knew that the Dursleys would never let Harry come to her house if they suspected that he enjoyed it in any way. Harry felt a renewed fondness for old Arabella Figg, whom he recently found out, was a squib, who had kept an eye on him all his miserable life at Privet Drive.

Harry made a decision right there and then to ask Mrs Figg if she still had the drawing, so could see it. He had no idea why this was so important to him.

Mrs Weasley and Harry sat together all morning, Harry finally accepting some food and tea. They hadn't talked much, hadn't resolved any of their problems, like the matter of Percy, which weighed heavily on Mrs Weasley's mind, and Harry was reminded, not for the first time, that the Weasley family, though large, was missing a piece as well, but somehow, they both felt better. Misery really does love company.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville were apprehensive that Harry had found he couldn't face family week and would hide away from any activities, which from the rumours that were circulating among the students, were going to be the best Hogwarts had ever seen. They certainly couldn't blame him, but they questioned the wisdom of Dumbledore for having made Harry guest of honour and planner of the dance.

When Ginny entered the Hospital Wing, she questioned everyone as to what they were doing outside Harry's room. For once in a very long while, she had forgone her studies for O.W.L.S. and was pink cheeked from having zoomed around on the Quidditch pitch for an hour. She knew Harry was okay with her playing Seeker, but somehow she felt she was stealing his thunder.

The Quidditch pitch was the only place Harry felt equal to the students who had been wizard raised, to his years in the sport. His academic skills were sometimes glaringly lacking of detail that the wizard raised students knew as second nature. Another reason he so admired Hermione, who was Muggle raised, but had learned every facet of wizarding life that was needed, but then again, she hadn't spent her formative years in a cupboard under the stairs alone and unloved.

Thinking of his admiration for Hermione and his loyal friendship with the Weasleys, Harry now felt somewhat ready to face the next day. Ginny had assured him that she would be there for him when he needed her, even just as an escort back to his room when he'd had enough.

Mrs Weasley's visit hadn't been for the sole purpose of consoling Harry, but to reassure him that security would be tight in the castle during family week. Extra precautions had been put into place to ensure everyone's safety, especially Harry's. Harry would normally have protested these extra precautions, but now he merely accepted them. He felt like a Muggle celebrity, always needing security, but for a more sinister reason than a rock star or famous actor.

Ginny had wanted to talk to Harry about her position as Seeker, but waited respectfully until Mrs Weasley allowed them all in. They knew that Harry had needed someone to talk to, and they decided not to question him about it, unless he wanted to open up. That was the trouble with Harry these days. His friends had no idea what mood or physical shape Harry would be in on any given day. They wanted to be careful to include Sirius's name in any relevant conversations without hurting Harry further. A near impossible task, but Harry had said himself, that he didn't want Sirius to become he- who- must- not- be- named-because-it-would-hurt-Harry.

Feeling better, Harry decided to join his friends out on the grounds. He didn't get far when Madam Pomfrey scolded, "You're not going anywhere without a proper lunch, young man." Everyone cringed when Ginny chirped, "I'll get it for him! I'm starving after that Quidditch practice. Fred and George took everyone else for a preview of the nineteen seventies costumes, saying wickedly in his ear, "We'll pick you up on our way back, if you're not too green from Ginny's cooking to come by then, mate."

When Ginny entered Harry's room, he was fearful once again, that she had cooked for him. 'Oh go on Harry! The closest thing you're going to get from me to a home cooked meal, is leftovers from the kitchens." With this said, Harry dug into his lunch with enthusiasm. Ginny was pleased to finally see him eat something as though he was really hungry, not just eating because everyone urged him to.

Before Harry knew what he was doing, he had taken a napkin to clean a spot of poached egg on Ginny's shirt, right near her chest. He turned bright red, and withdrew the napkin, coughing over what he almost done.

"Almost, Harry, although I pictured it a little more romantic than that," she laughed, making him cough even more. 'Honestly, you must have...you know..." she said, clearly seeking information on his dating past, which she would be relieved to know, was just about nil. How does one answer a question like that, he thought desperately, wishing that everyone would hurry up to get back and go outside where he could cool off. It was suddenly very warm in the room.

Finally Ginny released her torment, giggling. "Oh Mr Potter, you're innocent!" she teased, though secretly, she felt sweeping relief. Cho Chang hadn't been exactly shy about her intentions with Harry. With the relief however, Ginny had a new worry. Would Harry take her forwardness for an admission on her part that she wasn't innocent? She wanted this cleared up right away, so she said, "Of course, with six brothers, I'm not exactly a Weird Sister on tour myself..." She hoped she had made her point that she was innocent as well.

Ginny smiled mischievously at him, and, pointing her want to her chest, cleansed the egg with a Scourgifying Charm. Harry could not believe that he hadn't deliberately looked away, but Ginny was pleased that he hadn't. The truth was, that for never really dating seriously, he and Ginny were comfortable with one another for the most part. They had already had the most embarrassing meal a new couple could eat together back at the Burrow, spagetti. To cut, coil, or slurp?

Eating with Ron and the twins, the decision was quickly made for both of them years ago. At the end of a meal of spagetti at the Burrow, the family laughed at all the sauce covered faces. Table manners were enforced at the Weasley household, but Harry never felt the fear of spilling or dropping something and the discomfort of sitting rigidly in his chair as he had always done at the Dursleys.

Harry just remembered something, and asked Ginny how her Muggle studies were coming along. Ginny liked the lessons well enough, but realized that she had only taken Muggle studies to please Mr Weasley. Harry liked her even more for that. The boys had never been interested. Mrs Figg taught this class now. Harry wanted to talk to her, to thank her for at least doing her part to report to the wizarding world on his life in Privet Drive.

It was with great surprise, and a lot of teasing, that Harry declined a trip out of the castle that afternoon. The twins headed outdoors, to find a couple of unsuspecting students to test some of their 'harmless' products on, while Ron and Hermione, being in a good mood, let this go, even though they were Prefects. The twins were Hogwarts legends now, and it was considered flattering for them to pick you to pull a prank on.

"Well alright Harry, if you're sure, mate," Ron said, scrutinizing Harry's face for signs of trouble.

"I'm sure, thanks," said Harry, barely containing a grin. "Just gonna stick around here and help Ginny with a project," he said. Harry caught himself in a bold faced lie. He didn't know why he'd done it, but Ron did, and for once, it didn't matter.

"Okay, well..." he eyed them suspiciously. "Just be good you two."

'I could say the same," Harry cracked, as Hermione went pink.

When they had left, hand in hand, Ginny bustled about clearing the dishes. Harry almost found himself daydreaming about her doing this for them for the rest of his life, not that he wouldn't also clean, he scolded his old fashioned Dursley upbringing, but it was a warm feeling that made him feel like maybe there was a future, and maybe it would be a good one.

"So, what do you want to do?" Ginny asked. Harry's brain formed an answer right away, but he thought quickly, 'don't say that out loud!' He searched for something to say, but he was...Harry.

She sat next to him, as he put his trainers on, and when he sat up straight from lacing them, their faces were very close. He thought it would sound stupid if he told her that her hair smelled good, but before he could stop himself, he'd said it.

"Thanks," she blushed, and then, without warning, she leaned in to kiss him. Their lips locked, and for a moment, Harry's eyes were wide with surprise, as her lips stayed longer on his than Cho's had done at Christmas under the mistletoe. He may have kissed before, but not like this. Before, for one thing, there had no lip movement with Cho, just a rather long kiss on the lips, but now, eyes still open wide, he felt his mouth being pried open.

It was seconds before he closed his eyes, not wanting to miss a thing, but having no choice as he was becoming cross eyed being that close and trying to focus. This was singularly the best thing that had ever happened to him, and as they broke apart, Ginny laughed out loud at his still semi crossed eyes. He blinked like an owl several times before he could even speak. "Thanks!" he said enthusiastically, before he could stop himself.

'You're entirely welcome, Mr Potter, my pleasure," she laughed at the dumb expression on his face, as he thought that it had definitely been his pleasure. For the longest time, they sat making idle chit chat, neither sure of what to say about what they had just done, but there was one marked improvement, Harry knew now that he could take her hand without wondering if she would want him to or not. So there they sat until Harry confessed his plans to go see Mrs Figg. He didn't know if he was glad or scared that she had offered to go with him to her chamber. He didn't know how to present Ginny to a person who had known him all his life...his life before he knew he was a wizard.


	35. A Living Time Capsule

A/N thanks to BarbaraPotter for all your advice. I'm replacing those chapters with the uncorrected grammar very shortly. I have a beta now, who is working with me on that. I really have appreciated your kind reviews. I do live in Hamilton, so it's neat to see you here as well! I really look forward to hearing from you again! I also post at a site called SIYE and Wizardtales, and I have short stories there as well as one shots. I have a challenge story up at those sites and have one that received honourable mention at SIYE called, Five More Minutes. You have a good eye, so if you ever get a chance, I'd love to hear what you think of the other short stories I have written. You are a teacher? You may enjoy joining  then. Many of our members are teachers and even Professors at Universities, and they come from all over the world. We also have a nice chat group going there now, as well as a forum. The site is new and has very good writers contributing to it. The stories there are very well written for the most part.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! It means so much to me! If you have time, please remember to review, even if it's short, just to let me know you're still reading. I would really appreciate it! I'd like to thank everyone personally, but it is not allowed on this site. Thanks to my beta Bowtrunckle, who will be starting to go over this story for me so I can replace flawed chapters soon. PLEASE REVIEW

It was very difficult to explain the relationship between himself and Mrs Figg to Ginny. Babysitter was wrong, but Harry didn't want to present her as the uncaring bat that he was dumped on when the Dursleys had better things to do. She had never treated him poorly, but she was restricted in levels of kindness she could show him, so he could quite truthfully introduce her as his neighbour, though Ginny had already been introduced to 'Professor Figg,' new Muggle Studies Professor.

Despite never having shown Harry much affection in Privet Drive, Arabella's eyes grew noticeably teary when she opened her private chamber's door to find he and Ginny standing there hand in hand.

"Oh, Mr Potter," she cried, inviting them in to sit, and bustling around making them tea without asking whether or not they wanted any. "I've had updates on your condition of course, but to see you, standing here, cane in hand..."

Harry wasn't surprised to see that she had brought all of her beloved cats along, even though she had tripped over one years ago, breaking her leg. "I never expected to be asked to teach here at Hogwarts, but I think dear old Professor Dumbledore, knowing I'm a squib, feels that I'm safer here. Really wish I could've done more for you Harry. I did contact the Order the minute I saw you flying off in a rage during the storm. Dumbledore said at least my telling them that, saved him time in looking for you at the Dursleys." Maybe Mrs Figg had played a bigger role in saving Harry's life than he had ever thought possible, with her being a squib and all.

Mrs Figg continued."I knew something was up with them tornadoes. Not normal here, that ain't. I says to those Dursleys, you better come to my house, since yours is being torn apart. My house was fairing just grand in the storms so far at this point. First, they were going to decline. Seems it was fine for you to come, but it was too low class for them, that is until their roof came off, and then they saw my wisdom."

"The minute they got into my house, WHAM!" Arabella hollered, smacking the table with her hand dramatically. "Their whole house was in tatters. I offered them tea. They refused." she added, not understanding the decline. "Your aunti didn't like my Snookums and Pokey here." She pointed to two large grey tabbies with huge blue eyes. The Dursleys would most likely have been dead if not for Mrs Figg, and a small, very deep part of him, wished she had just let it happen, but then if he had to go back there next summer...

Harry cringed at the very thought, not just about having to go back, but at the fact that he had these unsettling feelings about the Dursleys, even if they were very deep down in his mind. He knew he didn't really want them dead, but just to be rid of them forever, and yeah maybe seeing Uncle Vernon have to muck out stalls of animals for a living and seeing Aunt Petunia living in a one room flat, would be worth a look. He didn't know how he felt about Dudley now.

"Er...Mrs Figg, I don't think I've ever thanked you for looking after me when I was little, so thanks for that..." Mrs Figg's eyes watered even more. She didn't know what to say.

"Try these dear, I made them myself," Mrs Figg said, offering around strawberries covered in cream and chocolate. Ginny, who had a weakness for chocolate accepted immediately. Harry, who had a very distinct memory of everything Mrs Figg ever offering him, tasting slightly old and dusty, declined.

"Mmm," Ginny sighed, reaching for another, pleasing Mrs Figg immensely. "You've got to try one of those, Harry," she insisted, popping one up to Harry's mouth before he could say no, and Harry thought that even if they were hideous, there was something very pleasing about the thought of Ginny feeding him a strawberry from her hand, and she was right, they were delicious.

"I couldn't very well feed you gourmet. If your Aunt and Uncle found out, they would never have left you with me," Mrs Figg said sadly, and Harry now knew how seriously Mrs Figg had taken her job. She had alerted the Order of trouble at Number Four, hastening his departure from there on more then one occasion. Harry became more grateful to her by the minute, as she filled them in on her work as an observer of Harry James Potter. Harry was praying that Mrs Figg would stop short of telling Ginny about the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his relatives. Ron knew some of it, but no one knew everything.

Just as Mrs Figg's face lit up when Harry popped another Strawberry into his mouth, Harry noticed something. There, on the mantle, in an old round frame with bowed glass, was Harry's stallion picture. For a second, Harry was seven again. Old emotions came bubbling to the surface, when they'd been buried for a very long time. She kept it, all these years...

Relieved that Harry's subsequent shock and silent stare had nothing to do with her refreshments, Mrs Figg asked him what was wrong.

'N...nothing, Mrs Figg," Harry stammered, staring at the picture and thinking resentfully of Aunt Petunia. Mrs Figg followed his gaze.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, dear. I felt very badly about your Aunt Petunia's having thrown it away," she lamented. "I thought...well, I thought, dear, that if one day, you were killed by He- Who- Must- Not- Be- Named, she would have regrets, and wish she'd kept it. Now I know..." Mrs Figg finished, sadly. "I hope it didn't upset you to see it, dear."

It hadn't upset Harry in a way she would have thought about. Harry knew he should never have brought Ginny here. She was looking at him in a whole different light, or at least he felt she was. Ginny for her part, would have liked nothing more than to inform the Dursleys that Harry was so wanted in the wizarding world, or anywhere else for that matter, that anyone would have been honoured to have that picture.

"That was kind of you Mrs Figg," Harry said warmly, but feeling a bit disconcerted by her honest answer.

"Of course, I kept all those candy dishes you made out of modelling clay, that I gave you to occupy your time with at my house as well." Mrs Figg pointed out a large china cabinet, full of flat, slightly indented pieces of unpainted pottery. Ginny went to have a better look.

"Ooh, look Harry. Come here. This one's still got your little finger print in the clay," she said, thoroughly impressed by something Harry would normally have never shown her. "Can I take one out for a better look?" she asked as though she were looking at something from a famous art gallery.

"Sure, but mind be careful. There aren't many left that old Mundungus didn't mistake for an ashtray before I told him off," she explained.

Harry laughed out loud, as a flood of memories came sweeping back to him, and as he recalled, many of these, 'works of art,' were in fact, ashtrays, but Harry didn't have the heart to tell her the difference. He had made one of them for Uncle Vernon's expensive cigars, but never had the nerve to give it to him for fear of the typical rejection. He felt like he was in the Harry Potter museum. The only remains of Harry's life before the age of eleven when he started Hogwarts, were all right here in this room...and so was Ginny.

Aunt Petunia had never been sentimental about Harry. She had saved all of Dudley's special baby clothes and special art work. Once Harry, a smaller baby by far, had outgrown the items from Dudley, there was nothing left of them.

All of this was very bitter sweet, as Harry placed his sixteen year old thumb, into the thumb print of the seven year old Harry Potter. He had never known that these things existed before now. For a long time, no one said anything, as Harry touched every piece of pottery, which Mrs Figg had dated after each visit. Some of them went all they way back to when he was just four years old.

"If you're interested in these, I believe Minerva McGonagall has some of your old report cards from your Muggle school days," she informed him. Harry felt overwhelmed. He had never been able to give his mother or father a single thing growing up. His mind floated back to the memory that had come to him on the operating table when he lay between life and death, his mother singing to him. He couldn't make out the words, but he pictured her smile, and wondered what it would have felt like to have given her a dandelion from the lawn, like children do, mistaking the weed for flowers, and having his mother happily place it in a vase, or drinking glass, happy because it was from her child. He had seen a neighbour child do this, and his mother accepted the dandelion like it was a dozen long stemmed red roses. He didn't know why his mind was working this way now.

Ginny did not press him, nor did Mrs Figg. You know Harry, if you want any of these mementos as a memory..." she offered, making sure to let him know that she cherished the items still.

"I...I don't know. Maybe they're better off where they are," he sighed. What would a sixteen year old with no family do with such items? Ginny had an idea, but she would not interfere. This was hard enough for Harry.

After the pleasant, but guarded visit on Harry's part ended, Ginny and Harry were walking down the corridor, when Harry stopped suddenly. "Ginny, can you wait for me here? I forgot something," he asked.

Madame Pomfrey had warned that under no circumstances was Harry to be left alone outside the Hospital Wing, lest he fall or something come up, but looking Harry in the eyes, Ginny knew he needed some privacy, so she agreed, listening for his footsteps up the hall. Harry was gone for ten minutes before catching back up, and Ginny couldn't imagine what had taken so long. Harry's quiet thoughtful demeanor told her that she would not find out, at least for now. Ginny also knew that she and Harry were at a very new step, a step that even she wasn't sure what level it was at. She would wait.

Harry's old sense of being cooped up had come back to him in Mrs Figg's tight cat filled quarters, and he felt the need for fresh air. After securing Madam Pomfrey's approval to go out again, Harry told Ginny he wanted to get a jacket, but stopped her as she tried to follow him into his room.

Harry didn't feel up to walking the spacious grounds today, so they sat under a tree near the entrance hall. The air was extra chilly after the stifling heat of Mrs Figg's. They sat close, holding hands and talking. Ginny let Harry steer the conversation, although she had so many questions about his past, having been tickled with a small glimpse of it. She knew she could better understand him if she knew where he was coming from.

Hermione and Ron had been walking absently and didn't notice the Whomping Willow until they came upon it, just a safe distance from those lethal branches. It was under this tree that a tunnel led them to the Shrieking Shack where they had first met Sirius black. Like Harry, the two of them had been so wrapped in worry about Harry's physical condition, that they too, had never properly grieved the man they had become so fond of.

Harry had spoken of the fact that Sirius had never had a proper funeral. Being Muggle raised, this was the only tradition Harry knew of to memorialize someone you loved. Harry had been bitter that Sirius had never been cleared of the murders he had never committed or thanked for exposing Peter Pettigrew as the real criminal, and he hadn't been apologized to, or hadn't had a normal decent life because he'd spent so much of it locked away in Azkaban.

Ron told Hermione that Mrs Weasley had looked into the possibility of having some sort of service for Sirius, to give Harry at least some sort of closure, and to prove to him that Sirius was not forgotten or unloved as so many would have believed. Sitting here in their own grief, made them feel just how hurt Harry must feel over this loss, and how much family week would have meant to him, had Sirius lived, even if he could not attend. Harry didn't have to prove he had someone, he just had to know it himself. They also knew, that although at sixteen, they felt pretty grown up, it was still nice to know your parents were an owl away to provide comfort or advice from a knowing source. Harry loved the Weasleys with his whole heart, but they had seven children of their own, and he would feel guilty for using their time unless absolutely necessary. Sirius was a bigger loss than they had ever thought of before now.

"Poor Professor Lupin's never really been the same since Sirius died either," Ron noticed only now.

"Well, he's the last of the group, isn't he? The Marauders, Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail and Moony. Lupin doesn't have many friends who would not only understand his condition, but accept him for what he is, and even learn to become Animagi to run wild with him on full moons. He always knew somehow, that while waiting for a cure, he may still have been able to run amicably with them again someday, but then one by one, they got killed, or turned over to the Dark Side, like Wormtail...Peter," Hermione explained.

No one would ever have guessed how much that scruffy looking character in the wanted posters would be missed and mourned by so many.

As they approached the castle, Ron and Hermione noticed Harry and Ginny sitting, staring into each other's eyes, deep in conversation. Ron cleared his throat loudly as they approached, so as not to disturb them. Harry still seemed nervous whenever Ron caught him showing interest in Ginny, though Ron couldn't have been more proud. He couldn't think of a better match. Hermione had cautioned Ron not to push the two of them together, because if Harry felt pressure, he would back off out of instinct to protect himself and others. Harry was already terrified of getting someone killed for just knowing him.

Ron had come to believe that now that Ginny was out of her crush phase, she really knew what she was getting herself into, and Hermione complimented his faith in his little sister. Ron was really growing up, in matters of the heart.

"Well, Harry's a good guy," Ron said, almost wondering in the back of his mind why Hermione had never given any indication of feelings other than friendship towards Harry. As if in answer, Hermione said,

"Well, Ginny's had a chance to get to know Harry slowly over time. We met so early on, that you and Harry were like brothers to me." Ron gulped at this statement, but 'no,' he assured himself, Hermione can't consider us brother and sister now. Hermione kissed him, as in answer to this question.

"So, what have you two been up to today?" Ron asked Harry and Ginny. Ginny was about to tell Hermione and Ron that they had spent some time with Mrs Figg, when she felt an elbow in her side. Harry was not ready to share his childhood memories just yet with them, but Ginny felt happy that at least he didn't seem much bothered by the fact that she had looked into the window of his past, even for a very short glimpse. It would be his secret for as long as he wanted, she vowed to herself.

"Oh nothing," Ginny answered brightly, and Harry smiled at her in gratitude for picking up on his feelings. Although Harry seemed too tired for having done nothing all day, as Ginny had told them, they did not pry.

Harry asked Ron and Hermione what they had done that day, and seeing their sudden down turned looks, asked them what was wrong. Remembering that Harry had likened silence about Sirius and his death to ignoring an elephant in the room, Hermione told him the truth. Harry hadn't been ready for this answer. He figured that they'd just had one of their typical fights or something. Harry had nothing much to say in comfort to them. He didn't know how to comfort himself in the matter. Now he knew why they had been silent about the whole thing at St Mungo's. Now, he understood.

It suddenly hit Harry, that Sirius would not want them all moping around mourning for him. They would anyway, but now Harry remembered something Professor Lupin had told him on one long night at St Mungo's when he had been in so much pain, physical and mental, that he felt like giving up and joining Sirius and his parents.

Harry found his voice and spoke of that torturous night for the first time. "Professor Lupin told me that Sirius told him, that even if he got killed, the most important thing to him in the world, was for me to know that he was innocent, and that he wanted me. He said if he had to die, he wanted me to know that he was true to my parents...He said he wanted me to live knowing that, so Remus reckons that at least he died having those all important issues that tormented him in Azkaban resolved. It didn't matter if he was cleared in the eyes of the community, just with me...Remus said, he at least had peace of sorts with that when he died...Wind's kicked up," he said, wiping his sleeve across his eyes to brush the flying dust out of them. He hated when this happened. Why did he have to cry every time he talked about his Godfather. Hermione of course, sobbed unrestrained.

"Anyway," Harry continued after gathering a little more strength from Ginny's encouraging gaze, "Sirius would hate it if we were sad every day about him. He loved fun and good times, and he wouldn't want that taken away from you...us...for him. He was going to give me a real home, and he wanted me, so I know he wanted me to be alright...and I will be...eventually...but you guys...next week is for you...us," he corrected uncertainly, though missing Sirius more than ever right now.

Harry lapsed into a small fantasy of how great it would have been if Sirius had been cleared and had attended family week with him. They had never gotten the chance to toss a ball in the yard, or take in a game of Quidditch together, and Sirius wouldn't be there the first time Harry would get drunk and make a fool of himself to give him trouble the next morning, but knowing that Sirius wanted those things more than anything else in the world, strengthened Harry for the week to come.

No one said anything, feeling slightly like a weight had lifted from their shoulders. Without knowing it, Harry had just eulogized his Godfather, and they hoped he would remember these words. Sirius was a Marauder back when he was their age, having the time of his life, gallivanting around as Animagi with his friends, and this man would wish no less for his beloved Godson.

Harry decided that he would finally take Professor Lupin's advice, and try to live again, instead of merely just existing. It would not do his parents or Sirius justice. So it was with a somewhat more unburdened heart that the friends made their way back into the school.

When Madam Pomfrey arrived to give Harry his many potions, she noticed the subdued tone in the room. "Everything alright, Mr Potter?" she asked, lifting his chin to look into his eyes.

"Fine, just a bit tired," Harry said, quite truthfully. He had never given a speech like that before.

"Well, I have put in your charts, a regular snack time. You need to build yourself up. Your walking is much improved, especially with the recent incentive plan established," she informed him, smiling, and turning to look squarely at Ginny, who suddenly became very shy. "Fastest, most effective form of physical therapy I have ever witnessed," she teased, taking his pulse, as his blushed crimson.

Turning Serious, the Matron told him, "Now Harry, I have cleared you to attend most of the activities for family week, but I must insist that you eat regularly and get your rest. If you don't take care, I daresay, you'll end up flat on your back in bed, and I promise you, if you think I fuss now..." she threatened good naturedely.

Turning to Ron and Hermione and especially Ginny, she warned, "Now, you three, I am holding you partially responsible for Mr Potter's welfare. You have veto privilege over him if you feel he is over taxing himself. They all nodded in agreement, taking this very seriously, despite seeing Harry roll his eyes. Sometimes lately, Ron could be a worse over protector than the girls, but it would be more activity than Harry had seen for months.

Mrs Weasley knocked, carrying a tray of hot chocolate with marshmallows and bringing with her some guests. The rest of the school had begun kick off parties in the dorms. The whole place was buzzing with speculation as to what accommodation had been made for the guests, but it was still the Headmaster's delightful secret.

Having had their cleansing talk about Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry were ready for now, at least, to have some fun. In fact, Harry's whole self changed when he saw, Neville, Luna, the twins, Tyler and Stephanie and a whole slew of Gryffindors enter the room for what would be the best party in the castle. It touched Harry to know that these people would rather be with him than in their own dorms.

Fred and George kept everyone in stitches with their impersonations of Professor Umbridge, trying to undo the chaos they'd caused last year. They even made a miniature lake appear in the centre of the room, which Madam Pomfrey ordered away, stating that the dampness wouldn't be good for her patients.

As with all Gryffindor parties, this one went on well into the night, and tonight, whenever Sirius would cross Harry's mind, it wasn't necessarily a bad memory. There had been good times before Harry's parents and Sirius had been killed, especially when they were Harry's age, and not one of them, would deny their precious child a chance for fun, in a life that had been so rife with loss and misery.

Madam Pomfrey was going to break up the party at ten o'clock, when the twins brought in the Butterbeer, but seeing Harry nibbling lightly on food, like he actually enjoyed it, made her change her mind. Some extra nourishment would do the boy good.

Ron was nervous about what he was about to do, but he also knew how Harry resented the fact that there had never been a public service of any kind for Sirius. He knew it was time to publicly acknowledge the dear man, even in this small gathering of people who believed him innocent. It touched Harry to his heart when Ron raised his glass of Butterbeer and said, "To Sirius!" Everyone raised their glasses and repeated, "To Sirius!" Harry was not sad for some reason, just strangely proud. It felt good to finally have a positive acknowledgement of his Godfather, and he hadn't known until this moment, how much he needed that.

Harry knew his grief was not over, nor would it ever be, but for tonight, he could smile at the picture of his parents wedding, with them dancing around, and Sirius in the background raising his glass to the happy couple. When Madam Pomfrey finally ushered everyone out of the room, it was with happy thoughts and a lingering kiss on his lips from Ginny that he finally went to sleep. The first dreamless sleep he'd had in a very very long time.

As Ron wasn't as tired as Harry, he stayed awake for awhile. He couldn't help looking at him. The moon glowed across his friend's face and he noticed that for once, Harry's breathing was slow and steady and his body did not twitch soon after sleep overtook him like it had lately. Ron wondered if Harry would ever transform into a Griffin again, or if that had all been part of a forced survival involuntary skill that was lost for good now that he was on the mend.

Ron and Hermione had only become Animagi, it seemed, to help Harry, and only for that purpose. If Harry was stronger soon, Ron felt sure Dumbledore would encourage them to practice to become Animagi, and with these happy thoughts, and looking forward to family week which would bring Bill home for a visit, Ron fell asleep. A peaceful night for all.

The improvement in Harry over all, was apparent to everyone when he showed up to the breakfast table before Fred and George and even Hermione. This would be the last private meal in the Hospital Wing for the week. The Hogwarts Express would begin bringing guests at six o'clock for the welcoming feast.

Mrs Weasley and Madam Pomfrey seemed very pleased when Harry helped himself to seconds of everything. Mrs Weasley explained that she was on a working holiday, helping Mad Eye Moody set up security checkpoints at the Hogsmeade station.

Neville brought Harry some very welcome news. It seemed that there were at least seven plants that seemed ready to be carved into brooms by the time the match with Slytherin arrived. In the company of his circle of friends, Harry left the Hospital Wing with a thousand reminders not to over tax himself. Even Snape had been forbidden to assign homework for the entire week to any student.

As they reached the Great Hall, they were astounded to see the lengths tiny little Professor Flitwick had taken to make the guests comfortable. Two large classrooms had been converted into a large pool and waterslide area that one would expect at an expensive resort. There were showers all around it, all with different perfumed scents and a large hot tub, whose jets were in fact, large massaging magical fingers.

The poolside loungers had individual heating and softness preferences at the touch of a button. The first floor had been turned into boutiques and salons and the second floor, luxurious accommodations for entire families. Keeping up with the theme of the seventies, the rooms were all Muggle oriented, and decorated in garish earth tones of green, brown and rust. Dobby and Winky delighted in placing mints and chocolates on all the pillows and even Hermione's parents, the dentists couldn't say no to that.

In celebration of what would hopefully become a yearly event, Dumbledore had asked Hagrid to plant two small young trees, one on either side of the entrance to the Great Hall. The trees could be looked back fondly on by former students, who could gauge their time out of school by the size of the trees in years to come.

A large box that looked to be made of stainless steel, was placed in front of the trees. Each student was asked to place a note or small personal belonging into the box, which would be buried next to the trees as a time capsule. No prior notice of this had been given, and Harry and Ron had no idea what to put in the box. Hermione as usual, came up with an instant idea. She came back from the girls dorms after five minutes, carrying one of her hand knitted house- elf freedom hats with a S.P.E.W. badge pinned to it, with a note. She wanted to be remembered as having been the one to start the house- elf freedom movement. Maybe one day, there would be a statue of her in the Ministry Of Magic, thought Hermione wasn't keen on the idea.

Harry couldn't help but feel a little intimidated to be asked to put something into this capsule. He didn't want to be self important, but he knew with sickening accuracy, that people in the future, would clamber for anything to do with The- Boy- Who- Lived...especially if he managed to pull it off again. His place in recorded history was already guaranteed, one way or the other, so he really didn't see the point of his participating in this time capsule.

Ron placed his pamphlet for a career as an Auror in the box with a note, which said cheekily, "Chudley Cannons rule!" He wondered if people would see the humour in this in the future. Perhaps by then, maybe he would be an Auror and the Chudley Cannons will have won something finally, he reasoned.

"Get real," said Harry, enjoying Ron's moment of thinking about future success for his favourite Quidditch team, even if it was decades from now. "Why the pamphlet?"

"Well," Ron replied thoughtfully, "If I put that in, I'll have to work harder, otherwise if one of my great great great grandchildren looked me up in a book and I hadn't become an Auror, they'd be disappointed in me." Hermione blushed involuntarily when Ron mentioned Grandchildren. Harry had noticed, but let her keep her secret hopes of marriage and family to herself. School came first for now.

"So, what are you going to put in the time capsule?" Ginny asked Harry.

"I'm going to pickle myself and jump in," Harry replied, smiling at her, but she knew he was just avoiding getting into a depression. She knew this week would be hard on him, but not so soon. He changed the subject.

"What are you putting in?" Harry asked Ginny. Ginny retrieved a photograph of the Weasley family clock, with tiny moving pictures of the family on it, which showed not the time, but location of every Weasley and now Harry as well. She beamed, placing it in the box, her only regret that this picture showed Percy still in exile. It was a perfect time capsule article, they all agreed.

Harry felt that he didn't feel like walking the grounds anymore, and everyone worried that he was about to retreat into himself like they'd feared.

Ginny assumed that she would be welcome into his room, but when he asked for some time alone, however gently he tried to say it, she felt hurt. He did his best to reassure her that he just needed some time to think. They all left, a little disheartened, Ron's arm around Ginny's shoulder. "I thought he liked me," she said more to herself than to them.

"He does, Gin, but Harry's like that. Always has been. You just haven't been around him enough. He just wants to be alone, because in his case, misery doesn't love company. He doesn't want to bring you down."

"For awhile there, while he was confined to bed, he almost had no choice but to open up to us, but now that he can get away again, he is," Hermione lamented.

"Well," Ron winked at Ginny to make her feel better, " I could always..." He gestured his wand, indicating a curse to Harry to make him lighten up." Ginny smiled. Her brother was so much more enlightened now.

After awhile, Ginny headed back to the Hospital Wing against Hermione and Ron's advice. They had tried on more than one occasion to draw Harry out when he was like this, and it almost always ended in a fight that would last for days. Ginny got ready for a battle royale, stiffened her back and went in. Instead, she found Harry lying on his back on the bed, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Ginny!" He croaked, passing a sleeve over his eyes and kicking himself for not sealing the door. She had never seen him cry before, not even when he was only twelve and had broken his arm in a Quidditch match. Ginny felt like she had let Harry down somehow. Had he cried like this at the Hospital when she had not visited him?

Ginny wasn't silly enough to have to ask him what was wrong. Everyone was talking about their futures and grandchildren and careers, and Harry was well aware of the fact that he may not see the end of the year, let alone a future with what the prophecy held. He had lain here wondering if he would at least, be a tragic hero, kill Voldemort, but be killed in doing so. Many duels, he reasoned, had ended this way. He hadn't really minded the thought of dying if it was quick and painless, but now he had Ginny, and that made the thought of dying worse. He wasn't ready to leave her, he'd just found her. Events like the time capsule made him painfully aware of his destiny, and it hurt.

Ginny let out a small sigh of relief when she placed Harry's head on her shoulder and he did not pull away. There didn't seem to be a need to talk for awhile. Madam Pomfrey interrupted the comfort Harry was getting by popping in to see if he was alright, having noticed his early return. She did notice he'd been crying, but Ginny seemed to have control of the situation, and the Matron felt that this would be good therapy for the grieving teenager, so she let them be, and pretended not to notice the streaks on his face.

Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration, not knowing if it was because he wanted to be left alone for real, or because he needed her to be with him now. Either way, it was not comforting. To need her was bad, he thought. Want her, yes, need her, no. People leave.

"I'm not putting anything in that time capsule. It's rubbish!" he spat. Ginny now had a better idea of what specifically was bothering him. What could the famous Harry Potter possibly put in there that would be just him, not 'The-'Boy- Who- Lived'...or died...whatever had happened by the time this box would be opened. How could whatever item he chose, not be connected to Voldemort and the prophecy. Every aspect of his life was tainted for 'neither can live while the other survives...'

"I've got it!" Ginny said, having read his mind. "Maybe Mrs Figg would let you have one of those, candy dishes, ash tray things you made to put in the time capsule. That was before You- Know Who and you were...you know..." She knew that Harry wouldn't want anything to do with his unwanted fame going into that box. He could hear the future now, taunting his mind, "Ladies and gentlemen, up for bids is this picture of Harry Potter just after the Triwizard Tournament taken by an audience member four hundred years ago!"

Harry made up his mind quickly, before he lost his nerve to go ask Mrs Figg for the item. Arabella was surprised to see him so soon. Ginny hoped that Harry didn't notice that she had taken down the stallion picture Harry had made, and he didn't. Mrs Figg was very understanding of his need for the dish he'd made, and as she had over forty of them, she didn't mind. Ginny never got the chance to ask Mrs Figg where the stallion picture had gone. She would have loved to have had it if Mrs Figg didn't want it anymore.

When Harry asked Ginny for a moment alone with Mrs Figg, it wasn't a push away, but a respectful request. She complied, and as the door closed, she saw Harry take up a quill and begin to write. A half an hour later, considerably more time than he'd asked for, Harry emerged, pale, but master of his emotions. He didn't tell her what was in the letter, and she didn't ask. He dropped in the time capsule quickly before he lost his nerve, and with it, went all his hopes and dreams such as they were. He felt better. He didn't know why.

It definitely improved Ron and Hermione's night to see the two of them stroll out into the grounds. "How'd you do it?" Hermione asked Ginny, not bothering to hide the question from Harry.

"She put the Imperius Curse on me," Harry joked, and they could see he felt worlds better. Ron and Hermione had never seen Harry snap out of a dark time so quickly before. Ginny was good for him, and so it seemed was he for her. She was so bright around him, like a light when he needed one, even in broad daylight sometimes now. Nothing was going to ruin this week.


	36. A Safe Haven No Longer

Most of the students were out meeting their parents. Bill strode into the Hospital Wing, looking fit and tanned and was swept up into a huge hug from Mrs Weasley. Harry couldn't help but catch her glance around, thinking 'one more and everyone will be here.' She gave a little shake of her head, admonishing herself for having forgotten that Percy was gone, probably for good.

There were hugs all around, and as Bill surveyed Harry, he said, "You look loads better, mate." Mrs Weasley had sent him letters detailing all she knew of Harry and Ginny's budding relationship. "I suppose she's got you doing ten laps a day?" he said, looking at his sister with a huge smile. "Right Tyrant that one! Small, but nasty...ouch! See?" he laughed, rubbing his arm, where Ginny had punched him. Maybe this week wouldn't be so bad after all.

As they made their way to the Great Hall, a sight met Harry's eyes that he could not believe. There, sobbing into her parents arms, was Cho Chang. Harry took a deep breath and before he could become indignant, Ginny burst out loud, "What in Merlin's name is she doing here?"

Mr Weasley reluctantly informed them that Cho had won a retrial and as such was free during family week. Harry mastered himself, after all, she hadn't been proven guilty, but either way, guilty or not, he would have nothing to do with her. Her past associations with the convicted kidnapper, Marietta Edgecomebe, was enough to taint her in Harry's eyes.

Ginny did not store her anger toward Cho as well as Harry had. She would have felt better if Harry had one of his famous outburst against her. When he didn't, she wondered with some trepidation, why not. The fact that Harry had just let it go, bothered the fiery Ginny. She flaunted the fact that she was Harry's girlfriend, until one thing occurred to her, she hadn't been officially asked! One date to the dance, and a few kisses, did not a relationship make.

Harry noticed Ginny looking pouty, when only minutes before she had been so happy. "What's wrong?" he asked. He was just no good at guessing girl's moods.

"Her," Ginny replied, jerking her finger toward Cho Chang. "The nerve!" Harry was touched by her protectiveness of him, and Ginny was horrified that she had just admitted jealousy. She didn't even know if they were an official couple.

For once, (it must have been a blue moon) Harry finally did something right to mend the matter. He slipped his arm around Ginny's shoulders. The first really public display of affection he had done, especially in front of Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny's older brothers, all of whom were very tall and very protective of their little sister.

Ginny felt Cho's eyes burn into her back as she had glared at them before leading her parents into the Great Hall, but she didn't care. Harry was holding her, and for that moment, everything was perfect. In the back of his mind, Harry had congratulated himself. He had wanted to say some very rude things to Cho, but had restrained himself for the Weasleys.

When Hermione's parents arrived, Harry thought Ron was going to faint. Hermione had written to her parents that she and Ron were a steady couple now. It was Ron's first meeting with them as being more than just a friend to their daughter. Ron had rehearsed many things he should say to them, now that he and Hermione were going out, but the easy manner in which they greeted him, took a boat load of worry away.

"Er, hello Mr and Mrs Granger," he said stiffly, as Mrs Granger took him into a big embrace.

Harry saw Neville leading his Gran to the great hall. Luna Lovegood approached Neville and his Gran on the arm of a very distinguished man in his early fifties. "Neville I'd like you to meet my father." Ron could relate fully, watching them, as Neville reverted back into his old stuttering awkward self upon meeting his girlfriend's father. Luna was rather perplexed at this. He had always been so calm before.

"I'm Ms Longbottom, pleased to make your acquaintance. Neville show some manners," Gran snapped as Neville shrugged off his introductory duties.

"And you," said Luna's father, asking Luna, "Who's your friend?" Mr Lovegood was beginning to wonder if poor Neville was under a Confundus Curse of some sort.

"Neville, my love, you've nothing to worry about," Luna told him sweetly. "Dad's known we're in love for a long time." Neville's Gran would normally have lost her marbles over a statement like this. She hadn't really cared for Luna on the few occasions they'd met, but than no one would ever be good enough for her grandson. Now, however, staring at Luna's handsome father, Gran mumbled something like, "that's nice." Neville came out of his stupor at hearing this.

"Well, since we've such a small group, perhaps we can sit together at the feast?" Gran suggested, never having been this friendly with anyone in all the time Neville had lived with her.

"Delighted," replied Luna's father, extending his arm to Neville's Gran, who actually looked delighted.

"See? I told you, silly," Luna ribbed Neville. As they passed the Weasleys and the Grangers, Mrs Weasley invited them to sit at their very large table.

Ron and Harry couldn't look at each other for fear of bursting out laughing at the thought of Luna's father and Neville's Gran getting together. The stiff old lady had melted right in front of them and it would be a long meal for Neville.

Harry saw Hagrid away in the distance, appearing to be working still. He hadn't considered that staff were having family members in as well, and that Hagrid was in Harry's boat, he had no real famiy. Hagrid was with someone, but Harry could not distinguish whom.

Harry was about to turn his back on the scene, when he felt a certain pang to turn around and invite Hagrid to join them. After all, Hagrid had always been like a favourite uncle to him. He looked more closely when he heard someone say, 'half a minute then," Harry turned and saw the most unlikely thing he'd ever seen at Hogwarts, Dudley Dursley.

Feeling all was ruined, despite having let go of Cho's presence at the feast, Harry could not let this go like he had everything else that was plaguing him. Dudley was going to ruin everything. Brushing past Dudley, who had expected this kind of welcome, Harry said, "can I have a word Hagrid?" but it was more of an order than a request.

The two of them found a private place to talk while Hermione made small talk with Dudley, and Ron glared dangerously at him. When the twins stopped short of saying something with a look from Mr and Mrs Weasley, that would have no doubt offended the newcomer, Dudley pretended that he was merely putting his hands behind his back, when really he was covering his backside, something he'd done in the presence of wizards ever since Hagrid had sprouted him a pig's tail. He also clamped his jaw tightly, remembering the ton tongue toffee that had caused his tongue to swell out of his mouth hideously.

The Weasley boys found it amusing to watch Dudley squirm. Harry had never been a complainer, but they knew of the torments inflicted upon him from Dudley, when he should have been like a brother to him. Mr and Mrs led the way in to the Great Hall, pleasantly surprised to find their table just below the Headmaster's.

Outside, the cold air was making Harry's breath visisble, as he stormed at Hagrid. "Hagrid? What's he doing here! This is my world, my home...what've you done?" Harry had relished leaving Privet Drive with all it torments, to come home to Hogwarts . These two worlds should not collide.

"If ye'll be calm, I'll tell yeh," Hagrid implored, holding up one of his enormous hands. Harry was about to stock back to the Hospital Wing and forget family week altogether, but he couldn't resist hearing why someone had been so abysmally inconsiderate to invite the boy that had made his young life a living hell, to the one sanctuary he had in the entire world.

"Firs' of all, it wasn't my idea. I told Dumbledore ye'd never go fer it, and that's when he tells me that's why we couldn't tell you about it. Yed've never agreed it."

"Well, he's right. I don't agree. Get him out of here."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Harry. He's here as Dumbledore's guest," Hagrid regretfully informed him, sounding genuinely sorry.

"Great than, problem solved. He can eat with Dumbledore, stay with Dumbledore and even run a three legged race with Dumbledore, than he'll see the fun I've had with the bloody git all my life! One nice gesture, probably fake, doesn't make up for a lifetime of being the dirt under his shoes."

"Harry, wait please," Hagrid called as Harry turned to take another route to the Hospital Wing.

"I've got no family either, Harry. I've tried with Grawpy, and sure, he's made progress."

"It's not Grawpy's fault that he was raised by giants, Hagrid. Dudley and I were raised together. When kids would pick on me, they were inevitably led by Dudley. When I came here, I found out what a friend was for the first time. I don't need him, I've got the Weasleys." Harry would have said, 'and you too Hagrid,' had he not been so angry at him at the moment for keeping Dumbledore's secret.

"Why don' yeh jus' give it a week's time, Harry. Remember, yer not allowed to do magic outside of school, but as yer in school..." Hagrid winked, remembering a similar conversation he'd had with Harry as he dreaded returning to Privet Drive.

Hagrid was right. Here, he could use magic, and as long as he wasn't caught by a teacher, the Ministry did not monitor magic at the school. Harry grinned wickedly, picturing 'Professor Moody' turning Malfoy into a ferret in the halls, and replacing Malfoy with Dudley as the ferret. This could be fun.

"You're right Hagrid," said Harry, feeling no welcoming thoughts toward Dudley, but rather, 'he's on my turf now, let's see how he likes a little turnabout.' Hemione had always said what goes around comes around, and now Dudley would be the tormented one. He could not let on to Hagrid the depth of his desire to see Dudley suffer, so he said slyly, "I wonder if Dudley likes ferrets."

Hagrid asked Harry if he was able to see himself back up to the school himself. Harry was confused as to why Hagrid was not attending the welcoming feast, so he asked about it.

"Nah, yeh know me, don' like big crowds an all..." True, Hagrid usually enjoyed the quiet of his grounds keeping duties, but now that Harry's anger over Dudley had been ebbed somewhat, he suddenly felt sorry for the half giant.

"You've got to come to the welcome feast, Hagrid," Harry said suddenly. "And you've got to sit next to me. You've always been like family to me, even before the Weasleys..." Harry recalled and it suddenly struck him that Hagrid must have been in considerable danger the night he had rescued Harry from his ruined home. There had been Death Eaters everywhere that night and Harry had really thought only of Sirius' role in all of this, not of Hagrid's actually risking his life for him as well.

He'd never thanked Hagrid, as he'd never fully appreciated it, and now when Hagrid spoke to him, it was as if he'd been reading Harry's mind.

"Yeh should be able to depend on someone without bein' beholdin' to 'em. Honestly Harry, watching you grow up has been the highlight of me life," Hagrid told him proudly.

Harry felt just too old to say 'I love you,' so swallowing his pride that had just welled up inside of him, he formally invited Hagrid to join them, telling him that it would mean a lot to him if he would accept.

"Oh, thas' alright Harry, I'm not dressed fet it. Jus' been out checkin' on me pumpkin patch for the Halloween feast."

"It doesn't matter how you're dressed Hagrid, you're my..." he didn't know whether to say friend or family, so feeling that friend wasn't enough, but family might be too assuming, he merely said. "It would mean a lot to me," once again.

Hagrid would do anything for his beloved boy, and vice versa, so they made their way to the feast with Hagrid's massive hand on Harry's shoulder, almost knocking him down, cane and all.

Tonks had apparently been talked out of resigning from the Order, but she was looking worried and weary. This, Harry knew, would not be a holiday for her. Harry's eyes roved around the Great Hall as all eyes turned on him, suddenly very glad that Hagrid was beside him. At least he could blame the sudden cessation of conversation and the stares on Hagrid's very ugly yellow suit that he had insisted upon changing into. The hundred of whispers around him feel very aware of himself and very clumsy. He tried to look straight ahead. He knew this moment would be difficult, but it felt like too much.

Harry fixed his eyes across the room toward Ginny, telling himself that he'd be okay when he reached her, but he was going too fast. As he passed a table full of mainly Ravenclaws, his cane fetched up on something solid and he fell to the ground. If Harry thought this was bad enough, he was quickly surrounded by about six impressive individuals, one of whom was Kingsley Shacklebolt. Tonks had cleared the astounded Ravenclaws and their guests from the area, rather heavy handedly.

As they hauled him to his feet, amidst gasps of dismay from the assembled guests, Harry saw Professor Snape standing up at the teacher's table, wand at the ready. Many of the students and guests had scrambled under tables to take cover, from what, they did not know, but this was Harry Potter.

From four points in the room, the all clear was given. Harry was escorted by the Aurors to his table, very embarrassed and wanting very much to leave and never come back. Ginny always knew when not to say anything, and now was it, so she just put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently, as Mrs Weaslely asked him if he was alright. Harry wouldn't have admitted to having hurt himself right now, and he was grateful that the twins tried to make light of things.

"Have a nice trip, Harry?" they chorused, and he was grateful for the distraction, which was actually Mrs Weasley telling them off for being insensitive. Hagrid had stopped to talk to the Aurors as Harry was just beginning to think that the amount of security was a little overdone. That was until he chanced a glance at the table where Malfoy sat, his stuck up looking mother, Narcissa, sitting beside him. He withdrew his gaze.

Hermione was delighted that though the food appeared magically on the plates, the house-elves came out timidly and sat among them at their own table which resembled a child's table at a party. Everyone, especially the Muggles applauded, and the house- elves smiled shyly in appreciation for the compliment.

Ginny waited until all eyes were on the elves, to ask Harry in private if he was alright. He craved her attention but not this kind right now. He'd hoped to just have a normal evening, and he refused to mention the fact that he'd smacked his already damaged jaw again on a chair back. "Really, I'm okay, can we just leave it at that?" he smiled, not too convincingly.

"Harry mate, why aren't you eating? It's the best feast ever!" Ron had actually emptied his mouth before speaking as his parents were sitting at the table.

"Not hungry," Harry lied, hoping his fall wouldn't cause his aching jaw to swell as he sat there.

"Madam Pomfrey told us that if anything happens, we're to send you straight back to the Hospital Wing, mate. If you don't eat, mom'll..." Ron tried to whisper in warning to Harry.

Harry drew his wand silently under the table, and words shot out the end of it to Ron silently in a vapour under the table. 'Ron, Madam Pomfry gave me pain tablets. They're beside my bed. Can you get them for me?' The words vanished in a vapour mist. Ron looked worried until Harry reassured him with a nod that it was nothing major, but Ron still felt weird about going against Madam Pomfrey's orders.

Ron returned moments later and handed Harry the tablets under the table. Harry snuck them and felt almost instantly better, until he realized, much too late, that they were also relaxation tablets and he had not noticed this because he had always taken them just before sleep anyway. He felt his nervous tension vanish. Suddenly, nothing seemed to be too much for him, in fact this was fun, too much fun.

Harry enjoyed just sitting there watching Tyler talk to his parents. Mr Golden, being unused to the magic as yet, was still excited at anything he saw, while Tyler and Stephanie had become quite accustomed to it. Helen, Tyler's Grandmother, was highly impressed.

"See dad?" said Ron. "That's the look you get every time you see a Muggle contraption," he pointed to Howard and Helen and the fascinated looks they got every time something would appear on a plate. Mr Weasley chuckled appreciatively. It looked like his first good laugh in a long while.

Hermione kept shooting worried looks at her parents, who hadn't gotten over the spectacle of security that happened when Harry had fallen. They were now well aware of the risks to Harry's life, and in turn, to Hermione, and they wished that this could all be magically over, but magic doesn't work that way.

Hermione hoped someone would make small talk with her parents to make them feel more comfortable, but the phrase, 'be careful what you wish for,' should have been blaring in her ears when she wished this, because Mr Granger finally spoke up and said, "So, Ronald, What is it you said you wanted to be when you leave school?"

"Oh, an Au...oh!" he groaned, as Hermione kicked him hard in the shin. Auror was the last profession they would want to hear their daughter's boyfriend had chosen. Too risky.

"Er..." Ron hesitated, and Mrs Granger saved him.

"Oh don't worry dear, plenty of time. You're young yet, you don't need to know now," she assured him, not knowing how wizarding schools quite worked yet. But Ron did have to know and pick appropriate choices now.

"...Er, yeah," he just said again. Mrs Weasley, who Ron had thought would be mad at him for not giving a direct answer, mistook Ron's sudden hesitance to talk, as a sign, that maybe, finally, he'd given up on this most dangerous of professions. She smiled at Ron appreciatively as they all, except for Ron enjoyed their meal.

Harry finished everything on his plate, not stopping to listen to the conversation at hand, until he had heard Ron's hesitation at what he wanted to be. A few moments after Ron thought he was off the hook for the time being, Harry's slowed mind caught up to the conversation.

"Ron, you've always wanted to be an Auror, you know that!" Harry said carelessly. Hermione almost kicked Harry too, although it would have been quite a stretch for her to reach him, and she could hurt his legs.

"What's an Auror?" Mr Granger asked.

"Oh...um, like...those pleasemen you have. A lot of them you call Bobby, why's that?" Ron asked, trying to change the subject, but getting laughed at by the Muggles at the table, which still worked in his favour. "What?" he asked quite seriously in response to the laughter.

"They're not Bobby as in Robert, Ron. That's just a title, and it's Pol- ice-men, Hermione corrected, shaking her head. She really did have to get Ron and the Weasleys to her house one of these days for an extensive visit. She invited all of them to come for visit one day soon.

"Oh yes, what a wonderful idea..." Mrs Granger agreed with Mrs Weasley that now that Hermione and Ron were dating, they should get to know each other better. Mr Weasley was of course, very eager. 'Imagine staying in a Muggle house,' he thought to himself. 'It would be like living off the land. Draw your own bath, cut up your own vegetables, do your own dishes, vacuum,' now that sounded like fun.

"Whew!" Ron sighed, now that the topic had turned. "Harry what did you tell them for?"

Harry looked very dopey, and Ron knew instantly that he'd grabbed the wrong tablets. He'd seen Harry under the influence of these tablets before, ones that Harry had thought were just for pain and were strictly for bedtime. Madam Pomfrey knew that if Harry found out that they had a calming draught in them, he would never have taken them. Harry had always been brutally honest and forthcoming when under their influence, and he usually fell asleep soon after taking them. Hermione and Ron had learned a lot about Harry when he took these pills, but as they helped him rest, they would keep Madame Pomfrey's secret from him. As far as Ron knew, Harry hadn't had any of these tablets since he'd been with Ginny more and more, and regretted having made this huge mistake.

Ron whispered to the twins about the situation with the medicine mixup and they agreed to help get Harry out into the fresh air before he could make an ass of himself. They convinced Mrs Weasley that they needed Harry to pose for an outline of his body for a fireworks display. Ron knew they had to act fast when Harry calmly stood to leave with them, when normally he'd have been mortified at such a request. Dumbledore had commissioned the twins to put on a huge fireworks display for the guests as this was their specialty.

Ron got Hermione's attention and managed to convey that Harry was on the wrong medication tonight. It would be okay if they could just get him out of there before he started blabbing. No one wanted Ginny to find out about the mistake Ron had made, and she had been heavily engaged in conversation with Bill, whom she hadn't seen in a long while. Ginny knew something was wrong when Harry stood happily to go pose for them as eagerly as Gilderoy Lockehart would have done. Dudley said nothing during the meal and no one encouraged him.

"We'll walk him back. Fred and George will be busy," Ron stated as he and Hermione stood to leave.

"Me too!" Ginny said, knowing that something was definitely up, but before they could even reach the huge oak doors, Tonks was on them like white on rice.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked. Her manner had changed dramatically since the earlier security breach on her watch at St Mungo's.

"If you don't let us out, Harry'll get killed. He'll die of embarassment," Ron whispered into her ear. Ron explained the medicine mixup, and feeling sorry for Harry's earlier mishap, she relented, but not without insisting on going with them.

Tonks had no self confidence anymore as she summoned Kingsley Shaklebolt to accompany them to 'get the fireworks ready.' They had managed to get Harry out of the Great Hall before he'd done anything stupid. No one had noticed the few Slytherins who had left about the same time.

As Harry splashed cold lake water on his face, his senses came back to him, but without the sleep that always followed taking this medication, he had a feeling much like a hangover. He would not be returning to the feast, but not for this reason.

From a distance in the direction of Sashu's enclosure, there was a massive premature explosion of fireworks, and Fred and George took off in the direction of their display, which was clearly being tampered with.

The twins were met with a scene of complete disaster. Charlie was sprawled on the ground unconscious, and they saw Sashu ushering her young out of their enclosure where a huge hole had been ripped. As near as Fred could tell in the frantic moments that ensued, the babies were unhurt, but Sashu herself had blood trickling from her nostrils, and they knew that whomever committed this terrible deed had used powerful magic, for dragons are not easily injured.

Acrid smoke filled the twins lungs and their eyes burned, as the smoke found its way toward their friends by the lake.

Harry could sense his presence. He could feel Voldemort's excited anticipation was not his own and he wanted to bolt, to run away from this nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, even if it was the worst he'd ever had, for never before had the Dark Lord breached Hogwarts grounds in his bodily form. The pain flaming across his forehead made him long for the sickness from the potion again. He didn't even think of magic. He didn't even know where anyone was as the smoke enveloped them, making them individuals, alone to fight for themselves. Even Hermione and Tonk's simultaneous cry of 'Lumos,' did nothing to penetrate the billowing dark clouds of choking smoke. Everyone was coughing, but they could each hear that Harry was coughing and choking more violently than anyone else.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed, as she felt his cold flesh, though he was sweating. "Come on, I'll help you!" If Harry had been well and calm, he would have remembered his direction charm he'd used in the Triwizard tournament, where all he had to say was, 'point me,' and the wand would direct him in a Northerly direction.

In his frantic pacing to get to the school for help, Harry had lost his cane, but now he felt he wouldn't need it anymore as he slumped to the ground, feeling Volemort's presence growing nearer with every searing flash of blinding colour before his eyes from the pain in his scar. He was getting closer. Voldemort was getting closer.

"Ginny! Get away from me! Now!" Harry bellowed forcefully. Ginny had no idea that what was happening, was so serious. She felt her brothers had mistimed their display and nothing more. No one knew what lie ahead, but Harry.

Although nothing else in all of the encompassing gloom at what would surely be the end of his life, could be illuminated, there, in the distance, Harry could make out the hated red slit pupils of Voldemort's eyes, staring boldly out of the nothingness of inky black smoke. He had brought his entourage, or had they been sitting comfortably at the Slytherin tables only moments before, breaking bread with those they intended to murder? And the Dementors, Harry could feel them, only this time, it wasn't a dream. Harry was so frightened and weak already that any amount of Occlumency or Patronus Charms would never save him now.

Harry was surprised at himself. In so many of his dreams, he'd wanted to give up and die, but as he felt his beloved Ginny fall limply at his side, victim of the Dementor's influence, he fought as hard as he could. He could feel the ground rumble under his body. There was no way he had the strength to summon a Patronus now and for the first time in years, he could hear his mother's screams, but this time, there was a new horror to haunt him. Sirius's body fell into a slow graceful arc into the veil of darkness, the look of fear and surprise on his face that Harry would never forget, but something else, regret. Harry could almost read Sirius's last thoughts as he fell in his mind over and over again, as Voldemort approached, apparently enjoying watching the Dementors do their work.

Harry could vaguely hear his friends crying out curses in all directions, and through dimmed eyes, he saw a beaver, Hermione's patronus...no,it was a badger, his foggy brain corrected. The horrible creature scattered as Voldemort screamed in angry retort, his sport having been interrupted. Soon, the air was filled with corporeal Patronus's from many different sources, everyone but Harry and Ginny. The two slit like pupils trained on where Harry and Ginny had been, unable to see any better in the dark than they were. They heard Voldemort cry, 'Lumos,' but it only served to make a vague outline of himself, and with the tell tale red eyes, Voldemort was now more visible than anyone else.

Harry knew that the battle he faced now would be his last. He wanted to aim the fatal curse at Voldemort and be done with it, but the eyes had vanished. Harry had no strength left in his legs, and what he could muster out of wanting to get away from Ginny before Voldemort found them again, was almost cancelled out by the fear he was quaking with. His legs shook and his heart thumped wildly as he kissed a barely conscious Ginny goodbye and made off in the dark alone. Running footsteps could be heard leaving the castle...lots of them. When Harry turned to see if it was friend or foe, he fell, his cane once again leaving his grip and rolling toward the lake's sloping hill.

Harry could hear anguished yells all around him, but could not put faces to the voices. Harry needed to get as far away from his friends as possible lest the killing curse go astray, or they have to witness him die what would surely be an agonizing death.

Harry could feel Voldemort following his slow pathetic limping strides. Every step Voldemort got closer, felt like an axe chop to the head, as near as Harry could describe. The green light that Harry could now see, was like night vision goggles.

Wand out, Harry decided to try the Cruciatis Curse, in case he hit anyone else by accident, at least they wouldn't die, and he could stop if he'd made a mistake. He aimed where he had seen the slit red eyes last, mustering his last remaining strength. "Crucio!" he rasped. Voldemort laughed that insane laugh he'd done the night he'd killed Harry's parents. Harry had missed and realized with horror, that he'd just given up his last position. Harry tried desperately to move from his point of attack as the blackness filled back in.

'You've been lucky so far, Potter, but no more. I do not need an audience to watch you die as I once did. My followers are faithful to me. Drop something did you Potter?" Harry felt his cane hit him in the chest and clatter to the ground. He moved as quickly and quietly as he could, not having uttered a single cry of pain, when he felt a sharp intake of breath, which he had to hold as the cane had hit his already tender rib area.

Harry tried not to breathe too loudly, but he was losing his will. The smoke was burning his lungs and his eyes and he swayed on his feet. This was it, he could go no further. He was already far from the original place of attack, and he hallucinated that the voices that had sounded so anguished were suddenly triumphant. He hadn't even been able to conjure a Patronus, but he felt out of sheer hatred, he would be able to perform an unforgivable curse. If he was dead, he wouldn't need forgiveness. He drew several small quiet breaths, like a hunted animal that was being dug out of it's tunnel. Harry straightened his body and squared his shoulders, wand out, with every last ounce of energy left in him.

"Avada...ahhhhh!" Harry had started the Avada Kedavara Killing Curse, but he'd heard no cry of defeat, instead he heard the exact words he'd been about to complete from the voice that that struck him cold. Voldemort had been quicker and had struck the dirt at Harry's feet, sending him sprawling to the ground in sheer agony, covered in mud. He lay there panting, counting the seconds until Voldemort would re aim and hit his now prone target. Harry did not have the strength for a re try.

Harry could have sworn he'd heard a gunshot in the direction of the battle, but it seemed muffled. It was so dark and smoky and the ground was so unstable under his body that he barely got to his feet, wondering why he wasn't dead. There was water up to his ankles, and he was lucky to have held onto his wand. He wondered where Voldemort was, and feeling around in the dark to get away from this spot before Voldemort could finish him off. He put his hands out in front of him completely blind. He cried out involuntarily when his hand touched something cold and damp that he felt sure would be Voldemort, but turned out to be a mud hill. He turned to go in the opposite direction and realized with a thrill of horror, that he was met with the same resistance on all four sides. Hearing the rippling of the lake and the squelch of his shoes, he knew that he was surely standing in his own grave. Mr Filch had never covered it over like he'd been instructed to. He had fallen out of Voldemort's curse range, into his own grave!

Now, Harry couldn't have fought if he'd wanted to. He was paralysed with fear. Almost more afraid of being in this hole in the ground than of fighting Voldemort. He fought not to hyperventilate as a sudden onset of claustrophobia gripped him. He couldn't reach the top of the grave to get a grip to climb out. His magical reserves were spent. He groped at the mud walls until his fingernails were nearly shorn off and bloody.

As soon as Voldemort had heard Dumbledore's voice, he had fled in search of reinforcements, taking comfort in the fact that Harry would not get far with his injuries and was too noble to cry out for help to his rescuers when they called out his name. Harry crouched in the cold hole, with his arms over his head, praying for a burst of courage that never came. The task that was his destiny was too big for him and he felt it.

Harry heard hurried footsteps and it was all he could do not to cry out in agony as his scar exploded anew. Harry took a deep breath, hearing Dumbledore's voice approaching ever closer as well, as Voldemort's red eyes looked down upon him. He did not have the strength to kill and he did not how close in proximately the headmaster was in relation to the target at hand. Voldemort laughed softly and raised his wand, but Harry shouted, "Riktusempra!" and Voldemort was knocked away from the grave, his death curse toward Albus's voice, failed, Harry told himself. At least he'd done one brave thing, but now Voldemort was certain of his location.


	37. Tom Riddle's Homecoming

"I do not have time to play with you this time, Potter," Voldemort spat, clearly winded. A shame this must be so rushed, I do so enjoy our little visits, but all good things must come to an end." Harry's eyes were unwillingly trained on the wicked red slits. These eyes would be the last thing he saw before he died. Voldemort unleashed one last playful Imperius Curse and Harry felt his body unwillingly bend and lie down, arms folded across his chest like a corpse.

Voldemort seemed to be taking a mental picture of this sight before forcing Harry to stand back up. As Harry tried to fight the Imperius Curse like he had done in the imposter Mad Eye Moody's classroom, his hand came across his cane, which he managed to grab.

"I shall not deny myself the pleasure of seeing you fall," Voldemort sneered, looking down at him. As dark as it was, Voldemort did not see the cane. Harry stood suddenly, hooking the cane's handle around Voldemort's ankle and pulling with all his might. Voldemort slid on the wet grass and fell into the grave with Harry. Harry heard a surprised gasp from the Dark Lord. Was it panic?

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, as Voldemort's wand flew to his open hand. Voldemort recovered quickly, plowing into Harry and retrieving his wand as easily as taking candy from a baby. Harry held on to his own wand for dear life as Voldemort's cry of Expelliarmus failed. Voldemort now turned his attention toward taking Harry's wand by brute force.

Just as Voldemort grabbed Harry's neck and a fist full of his hair at the same time, a new voice could be heard from above them.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry heard the charm just as he felt his adam's apple about to crush in on itself from the pressure of the bony cold hands. Before he could figure out what was happening, his feet emerged from the heavy muck, minus his shoes, and he began to rise. He stood shakily beside Albus Dumbledore, sinking to his knees in pain and exhaustion. He watched in astonishment as the mud on the side of the grave caved in on itself to cover the Dark Lord who was then buried. The pile of mud did not move, but Dumbledore took no chances and spirited Harry quickly back to the school, despite his protests that he was fine and that he needed to find his friends.

Things were going no better for the Death Eaters now that they had been abandoned by the Dementors.

Dumbledore was now engaged in yet another battle as Harry snuck off the stretcher he'd been ordered to stay put on. He had to find Ginny... He groped around seeing a prone figure through the dissipating smoke. "Professor Lupin!" Harry cried in dismay, turning the shaking figure over.

Professor Lupin had not been cursed. He had been shot by Mc Nair, Buckbeeks would be executioner, with a Muggle rifle. Harry cradled the cold form on the icy ground.

"No...Professor Lupin...Remus, no, please..." It was like losing Sirius all over again. He wondered how many more bodies would be found on the ground once the smoke cleared, and he pushed his mind's picture of Ginny laying dead out of his thoughts.

"_NO...no, no...she lived...she has to be..."_ Harry trembled, rocking Lupin back and forth with himself. A large figure made it's way toward Harry, and through his tears he could almost fancy spells bouncing off the figure as it swayed unsteadily toward them.

"Hagrid," Harry cried. This could not be happening. This was Hogwarts, one of the safest places in the wizarding world. Without a word, Hagrid picked up Remus in his arms and took Harry under the arms to help him walk.

"No, wait...Hagrid I can't go...Ginny...my friends..." Harry pleaded as Hagrid tried to ignore the child's anguished pleas. Harry tried to free himself from the giant's grasp, but Hagrid stayed firm, the child's cries breaking his heart.

"Look, Harry. Dumbledore gave me orders. I'm to get yeh back to the school. There's special protection there. With you out here, the rest don' stand a chance. Voldemort won't risk losing followers if he knows he can't get to you, an' he may back off." Hagrid hoped that poor Harry was still lucid enough to understand the logic in this, with his fears for his friends.

As they reached the front entrance, Hagrid uttered a password of sorts to the doors, which swung open only wide enough to allow entry and shut behind them with a bang. Just as the doors had closed, Harry had uttered, "wait, there's someone else!' His feet were numb with having been bare and wet, but he limped back out toward Fred and George, who were carrying the limp form of their brother Charlie between them.

"Harry, back in now!" Harry was picked up and thrown into Mr Granger's outstretched arms. He was restrained there as Hagrid went out to help the twins, and he watched with a sinking feeling as Hagrid had relieved them of their burden.

George helped Fred in the rest of the way. His arm fell at an odd angle and his robes were covered in blood all down his left side from his arm. Harry felt sick, sure that it would fall off before they reached the hospital wing. The room swayed as Harry remembered the dream from the future...Fred's arm had been missing in that dream! It was all coming true and there was nothing he could do about it.

Harry could hear the frantic hysteria in the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey magiced Fred, Charlie and Lupin onto stretchers and whisked them to the Hospital Wing. She had instructed Harry to lie down on the cot she had placed in the Great Hall for him and ordered Mr Granger not to let him up.

A very frazzled Professor McGonagall ordered Harry to take off his wet socks as she guarded the doors. Harry was left to this task as McGonagall, Flitwick and Mad Eye Moody were all guarding the doors. Seeing that Harry was having difficulty getting his socks off with his numb fingers, Mr Granger took them off for him and covered him with the blankets on the cot. Harry sat, staring numbly at the great oak doors, wishing they were transparent.

Harry tried to concentrate on what people were saying. Apparently, Mr and Mrs Weasley had left the school when the fireworks had gone off early, knowing something was wrong. Harry hadn't seen or heard them. Neville and Luna and several members of the DA had snuck out to help, and now at least, Harry felt a little better about their odds with the Death Eaters. He knew however, that Voldemort would not be down for long from a grave full of mud.

Harry turned as he heard Professor McGonagall's muffled pleas with Professor Snape.

"Severus, please be reasonable. In a situation like this, you are not expected on either side. It's simply too risky. How could you fight? If you are seen fighting them by anyone, particularly those from your own house, your life will be over." McGonagall's voice cracked as she tried to talk the Potions Master out of joining the battle.

"Minerva, you know I can't stay here. I'll just have to be discreet," he stated, grasping his forearm, where surely, the Dark Mark burned. It was so confusing, the call of compulsion and the call of his own will to help save the one person who had trusted him all along. When Harry had returned without Dumbledore, Snape had decided that the time for payback was now.

Harry cursed himself. If he had just stayed on that stretcher and came back to the school, Dumbledore wouldn't still be out there.

"Professor Snape, wait!" Harry couldn't believe what he was about to do. "Take my invisibility cloak." Somehow it had touched Harry that Snape was going to put himself on the line to save Dumbledore and maybe the others.

Snape did not even have time to argue that he didn't need it, as he ordered a traumatized George to retrieve it for him. Snape was gone in a flash, casting a questioning look at Harry before leaving.

It was a lucky thing for Snape the he had the invisibility cloak, as the smoke had begun to clear as he battled his former fellows. Snape sent a Slicing Curse into the back of a Death Eater who had been about to curse May Eye Moody. Moody, who could see through invisiblity cloaks, glared at Snape, knowing that he should not be taking such a risk. Mad Eye Moody's magical eye moved away from Snape, so no one would follow his gaze.

Back at the school, everyone was trying to prevent Professor Lupin, who'd been enervated, from getting up. Lupin left upon hearing that Snape had joined the battle, as the Matron considered an Immobulus Curse to stop him. Lupin did not know how grievously injured he was. He'd been through worse, he thought wrongly.

Snape felt that one of the most dangerous things the Death Eaters had in their arsenal, was the rifle, because now McMair was firing indiscriminately in the direction of any voices he heard, friend or foe. Snape saw McNair catch sight of Professir Lupin again and aim toward him. He got off one shot which sent Lupin sprawling to the ground.

With a grin of satisfaction McNair aimed at the dead or injured professor again. Snape stealthily snuck up on McNair, grabbing the gun and driving it into his face, hearing the satisfying crunch of a broken nose. The invisibility cloak slipped off Snape's upper body in the motion and as McNair stood up, he caught sight of his attacker. The words "traitor!" were on McNair's lips just as Hagrid caught up to Professor Snape, hitting McNair with his club like wand in the back of the head.

"Tha's fer Harry!" An' thas' fer Buckbeek!" Hagrid had come to force Lupin back to the hospital wing, but apparently, he was too late.

McNair needed to be silenced permanently, but Hagrid was not prepared to perform the Unforgivable Curse it would take to accomplish this. Snape on the other hand, as this was his life or death, as well as that of Harry's and many others, raised his wand to kill, and time seemed to have stopped.

The other Death Eaters saw Snape raise his wand, and as his loyalties were in question at best lately, they had ceased all battle to observe his actions. It was apparent that none of the Death Eaters had heard Snape's cry of Avada Kedavara, toward McNair, and as Hagrid also had his wand raised toward McNair, there was a question as to who had done the deed. Hagrid knew what he had to do in that frozen second. He had to act as though he'd just finished McNair off and was going to battle the next Death Eater he saw, Severus Snape.

As the Death Eaters came to the conclusion that Hagrid had killed McNair, they began aiming curses at him. Being half giant, most of them had little effect, but Hagrid did send some of them flying with a powerful stunning spells.

Hermione saw Snape transfixed in the middle of battle, not knowing whom to fight. He had hoped for cover. He could not fight the Death Eaters here, now that he'd been seen, and he would not fight the students or Dumbledore to appease them, but his master drew near.

Hermione remained clear headed in the battle, and aimed a Stunning Spell at Snape, pretending she'd just missed a Death Eater who had been approaching the Potions Professor. "Sorry Professor Snape!" Hermione cried so everyone could hear her. This gave Snape a way out of the battle, though Hermione could tell he wanted all of this over with as much as Harry. Snape's dual life could not last. He had now killed two of his own. How long would it be before he was caught? How they would torture him, mind and body when they caught him. His body shivered on the ground as the battle raged all around him.

As Snape recovered from the Stunning Spell, he was unable to lie still while anyone from the DA or any other student was in immediate danger. He discreetly performed undetectable tripping curses or shields to protect them.

The tide turned in Hogwart's favour, as an unbelievable site distracted all who were fighting in the battle. A shape that obliterated the very moon, flew over the castle and grounds. It was Sashu, retreating with her babies. Hermione knew that was leaving so that Dark Wizards would get no where near she or her babies ever again. Fearing that the dragons were working for Dumbledore, the whole group of Death Eaters gathered together to aim curses at Sashu.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears before she remembered that there were very few ways in which a dragon could be hurt. Sashu breathed fire at the Dark Wizards, who fled for their lives. Voldemort had escaped from Harry's grave was in a rage. He tried to regroup his followers, but they would not return and Voldemort did not want to risk failure if he didn't have Harry directly in his clutches. They had lost. Voldemort's supporters would suffer this night. One would be named a martyr, one would be commended for valour.

As Snape lay on his back, he felt the Cruciatus Curse being placed on him. He turned his watering pain filled eyes toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest from where the red slit eyes stared menacingly back toward his pain wracked body. He could feel the stare, though now, the pain had subsided. He had been warned to protect his own better. Fearing more abuse at the hands of his master, he muttered obediently, "please forgive me Master."

Dumbledore had reluctantly waited until he was sure the Dark Lord had retreated, before helping Snape up shakily to his feet. He knew Voldemort was gone. He could no longer feel his putrid presence.

"Dumbledore," Snape said, running a shaking hand through his hair. "I fear Lupin is dead or injured. I couldn't stop the second shot, and the bullets were silver," he continued, holding up the shiny bullet. "He knew...McNair knew what Lupin was...and it was I that let that out...McNair is a trophy hunter...and he knew..." Snape said, shocked at how worried he felt that he had contributed to another certain death.

Dumbledore, tired of squinting in the thick smoke, uttered, "Cumulus Evaporitus!" A damp fog rolled onto the grounds and disappeared quickly, taking the smoke with it.

Sashu's flight had taken her out their range of vision, as Hermione reached Lupin's side. She was unhurt, but Ron was no where to be seen. The last thing she had him say was, "Charlie!" when Sashu flew over, Ron knew something was very wrong. Ron had taken off in the direction of Sashu's enclosure to find Charlie and when Neville and Luna found this out, they went to help. No one knew that the twins had already found Charlie.

No one knew how many DA members had come outside to help before the doors were more secure, so it was unclear if anyone but Ron, Neville and Luna were the only ones unaccounted for. Hermione had wanted desperately to follow Ron, but someone had to stop Lupin's bleeding. She had bound the wound with his robe. He had been hit in the abdomen and shoulder, and not knowing that the bullets had been silver, Hermione assured Lupin, in case he could hear her, that the Matron could fix him up in no time. She did not know that McNair was trying to get himself a trophy, the old fashioned way.

Snape had never meant to get Lupin killed. His pettiness of the last years finally caught up with him. His hatred of James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had finally caused real havoc. Snape found himself praying and panicking silently that Lupin would not die, if even for Potter's sake.

As Snape watched, Dumbledore's face became grave when he stared at the silver bullet, and he felt very much to blame. He knew that if Lupin died, Harry would not handle it at all well and that another death so soon, could put him over the edge. The boy's heart still bled for Sirius. He had turned to one person who had died, only to turn to another who may also die.

Dumbleore turned his face up looking very weary. He ordered Moody to take the members of the DA who were who were unhurt to form a search party for Ron, Neville and Luna, while he and Snape took Lupin to Madam Pomfrey.

Dumbledore did not like the sound of his own voice as he ordered his young students to return to the battlefield that was their school grounds, but he knew that there was no use in having an army if you never intend to use them, especially for finding your own. There was a certain sense of security among the members of DA in having been instructed by Dumbledore himself to find their friends, but it still seemed unreal to them, as months of training would now be put to real use, where a mistake wouldn't get you laughed at, it could get you killed. They all knew that the DA must start up again in full now, should they live to see this battle through alive.

Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Zachirius Smith, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Parvati Patil, left with Moody. Ginny had been looking desperately for Harry, and Dumbledore knew that if Voldemort found out she was special to Harry, she would become as much of a target as he, maybe more. Hermione had been instructed to find Ginny.

When Hermione found Ginny, it was apparent that she was exhausted, having been under the Crutitus Curse for some time. Bellatrix Lestrange had been lurking near Harry , waiting for her Master to come finish him off so she could see it happen clearly. She had heard him tell Ginny that he loved her for the first time. It hadn't been the ideal setting for sure, but Bellatrix knew that Harry figured that it may be his last opportunity to say it, and it was at least a time that he didn't have time to worry about it if the words were not reciprocated. He had to get away from her, to save her, but not without her knowing... Bellatrix could tell that that was important to Harry.

Harry did not see the grinning Bellatrix step from behind the tree where she had been listening to Harry frantically profess his love for Ginny before running away. Bellatrix had approached Ginny, reciting a part of Shakespeare like she had a fondness for his words. "Oh, Juliette...where art thou?" Bellatrix recited. There would be no taunting baby talk for Ginny, that was reserved for Harry.

"Show thyself Juliette, so that I may slay thee with my curse, just one utterance, then I may bare witness to Romeo of your untimely passing...or wait, thou should see your fair fragile Romeo as he dies," Bellatrix taunted, then she dropped out of her melodramatic speech into her cruel usual voice. "What I mean is, wait here." She then put the Cruitus Curse on Ginny, who curled into a ball to wait to die. All she could think about was Harry, even through pain like she had never experienced in her life. Harry had endured this curse many times and Ginny didn't know how he'd lived through it.

Bellatrix was hit suddenly with enough curses to send her reeling backwards. The DA had arrived. Her curse was broken as Ginny lay twitching on the ground. Hermione summoned a palm full of water from the lake and brushed it over Ginny's tear streaked face. Bellatrix put a strong shield up and told the members of the DA that she would remember their faces and give their families a glowing report card...in person. She then disappeared into the night, running, something no one would have expected from one of the more powerful Death Eaters, but it did confirm one thing everyone was grateful for, the Anti Apparation wards around the school held.

Ginny was tough, too tough. She wanted to stay out to find Harry, and the only way Hermione could convince her to go back to the school was to tell her that Harry would give up if anything happened to her, and that Fred and Charlie were wounded and Ron was missing. Ginny knew that Mrs Weasley would be beside herself once she found out about everything, so she made her way back, warning Hermione to say nothing about the Crutiatus Curse that she had been under. Ginny wanted to be with Harry when he came back...if he came back, not in bed being fussed over. Hermione agreed reluctantly, figuring that at least, Ginny would be in the Hospital Wing if she needed looking after.

While all of this had been taking place, Ron still not knowing that Charlie had been rescued by Fred and George, had taken off after the twins, only to be followed by Neville and Luna. Ron Neville and Luna had just found one another, and unbeknownst to them, they were standing in the very spot where the Dark Lord had just been caved in by Dumbledore...Harry's grave.

Before any of them could react to the sudden appearance of their childhood nightmares, Voldemort had decided that it would be great punishment for the whole school to find three of it's own, dead in one grave, the grave that he realized to his fury, he would not fill tonight with the intended victim, but someone would pay...and pay slowly.

Neville, Luna and Ron were thrown into Harry's grave as easily as one tosses pocket change into a wishing well, and Voldemort made a ghastly wish tonight. They felt the mud rain upon them heavily, pinning them in. Voldemort did not have time to wait for them to die. He left to finished his task.

As Ron lay dying, he felt the person who had landed on his back, stop moving. He felt a hand to his right and squeezed it hopefully. It did not move, but it did have a wand clasped firmly in it. Ron did not know where his own wand was, and besides, he thought desperately, there was no way he could swish and flick for an effective charm in these suffocating confines. He tasted mud and couldn't open his eyes.

Ron concentrated all of his oxygen deprived thoughts on a Repelling Charm. It must surely have been sheer desperation that made the spell work, for his mouth was so full of mud that he could neither utter the necessary word nor move the wand. Somehow, as he grasped the wand as tightly as he could and concentrated, a hole the size of his father's Ford Anglia was blown out at the head of the grave. They were not uncovered, but Ron was able to pull himself into the small opening at the head of the grave, which mercifully did not cave in as he clawed his way out of the mud. There was no air, and it was still covered overhead. Ron grabbed Neville's foot and dragged him into the space. If only there was air, but the hole had been made after the grave was closed over, so there was no pocket created by the action. It had been Neville's new wand that Ron had felt. Luna was no where in sight.

Neville gasped on the little bit of air that had been left in the mud piles, which was not enough still. It was like breathing through the tip of a quill. He and Ron tore into the Earth lit by Neville's wand, and they found her at the foot of the grave curled up and cold, unconscious.

Neville had never mastered the 'Enervate' Charm when they'd practised in the DA for helping a wounded fellow member. Like an Unforgivable Curse, you had to mean it, and Neville did, with all his heart. The word Enervate, came out in a small constricted cry, without thought that enervating her would cause her to need more oxygen too, and thus shorten their already almost over life span. Luna did choke in some of the stale almost non existent air, but there wasn't enough to bring her around.

The hole began to fill with water, if anything could be worse,. But with it came glorious oxygen, clearing their dizzy thoughts, and taking them, from one panic to another. Would dying without air in the dry be faster than drowning? Ron now understood that Voldemort had deepend the grave. They were more than six feet under now, judging by how fast the grave was filling, so his idea of using a Repelling Charm again, was abandoned as it may cause a cave in severe enough to kill them too, so he would use it as a very last resort. They would have to wait for rescue...if there was anyone left to come for them. He tried to calm Neville, telling him that they would be fine. The oxygen once again depleted, but Ron put bubble head charms on them, something he had learned... and he hated to admit it... from watching the Triwizard Tournament, when Viktor Krum had performed it for the third task.

As they sat in terrified silence, Ron knew that if it were Hermione laying in his arms, like Luna now laid in Neville's, he would fall apart. For them, the war that Harry had fought every day of his life, had started. It didn't help lessen the worry, coming from a large family, but Neville had already mostly lost his parents to this war, and he, like Harry, was an only child. Ron knew he couldn't spare anyone either, but he hoped that Luna would really recover if they got out, like he had been assuring Neville all along.

Madam Pomfrey only had time to stabilize Fred and stop the bleeding, as Professor Lupin was carried in by Hagrid and Snape. There were other minor wounds suffered by members of the DA. Lavender Brown was just getting up to leave, hand still broken, knowing that with so many seriously wounded, she would be in the way. Hermione stopped her on the stairs. "Lavender, did you see Ron?'

"No, Hermione," she sobbed. "I'm afraid I wasn't as useful as I thought I'd be. You were right, Hermione, my specialty will be rubbish Divination." Hermione now regretted with all her might, having said this in a moment of frustration before the DA had even formed, just before she had given up Divination for good.

"Lavender, we were very very young. I was upset with Professor Trelawny when she told me I had no skill in Divination. I was jealous I guess." Hermione had not known that Lavender had heard her, and she was reminded of the time before she, Harry and Ron had become friends. She had heard Ron explaining the reason she had no friends and had spent the afternoon crying. Hermione knew she was sometimes insensitive, and she resolved to try to be better as one often does when facing life changing situations.

'You? Jealous of me?" Lavender sighed, holding her hand.

"I'd never failed at anything before," Hermione admitted. True, she'd always thought Lavender was a little too giggly and girlish, but she'd never meant to hurt her. Now, Hermione looked at Lavenders very swollen hand.

"Lavender, you have to go back to the Hospital Wing. We'll wait together. We'll keep Ginny company...she's worried sick about Harry..." She didn't even want to think about that. She didn't know if he'd been injured, or where he was exactly, just that he'd been brought back inside the school. Not seeing him here, even in a bed, made her very nervous. Where was Ron? She just needed to get busy, so she could push the bad thoughts to the back of her mind.

Hermione got busy helping those less injured who were still sitting in relative shock. Seeing George pacing, she asked him to get some ice for Lavender's hand. Mrs Weasley was sitting beside Ginny, who, as she predicted, had been put to bed, as she coughed from the intense smoke of that night. Everyone who had been outside, was smudged with soot and ash. George was so badly covered in soot, it was hard to tell he had red hair.

Harry meanwhile, sat on the cot in the Great Hall corridor with Hagrid, Tonks and Shaklebolt, who were given explicit instructions not let him out of their sight. Harry was in shock. He did not want to know what was happening upstairs and though no one had told him about Ron, Neville and Luna, he had not seen them come back. He heard the list of the search party as they were checked off by McGonagall as they left, and all anyone could tell him about Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys, was that they were upstairs.

Other, members of the DA like Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, who were also old enough to be members of the Order, were stationed around the Great Hall. The teachers did rounds of the rest of the school. If Harry hadn't been so horrified and drained, he'd have been proud of how competent and useful his DA students had become.

Tonks moved to put a comforting arm around Harry's shoulders, but he whispered quietly, "Please don't touch me. Just leave me alone," and put his head on his knees. He didn't care if his feet were numb, or that his fingers still bled from where he'd clawed at his grave. His head pounded and he couldn't think straight. Why had he promised not to run away?

Tonks looked as though her heart ached, watching the boy who had suffered so much all of his life. She was grateful that because he wouldn't take human warmth, Professor McGonagall placed a warming charm around his bed. He seemed to barely notice.

Harry had a strange feeling, much the same as the Telephotus Dreams had felt, but Harry could almost feel Ron calling for him from beyond the grave. He didn't know how right he was. Ron's last shred of hope, was trying to contact Harry, like Harry had contacted him, but there had been no Telephotus activity lately anyway, and nothing had come from it. Harry had been practising Occlumency with Snape and Tyler lately, as well as Legillimency, and Tyler had said that Harry was somewhat telepathi, almost like a cat's sixth sense. The three of the friends had felt strangely aware of one another ever since the night of Harry's funeral, and now even Ginny had started to register on Harry's new feelings.

Harry hadn't realized he'd been rocking back and forth nervously. Professor McGonagall was going to give him a Calming Draught.

"Please don't touch me...I can't...I don't want..." he pleaded, his voice still barely audible above a whisper. He felt quite sure he was finally going insane, something people had been predicting all along. How much could one person be expected to shoulder?

Then something happened that Harry promised himself would never happen in public. He was sobbing, and was now madly rubbing the dirt off himself from his grave. He knew he was acting insane, but he suddenly couldn't help it.

"Get this off me!" he screamed, wild eyed, desperately scraping at the caked on mud from his clothes and feet. He was finally having a mental breakdown, and even Hagrid had tears in his eyes at the sight of his poor boy. It was not unexpected.

Harry was now screaming like he'd done only in his nightmares, but this one had come true, like so many others. On one hand, he wouldn't let anyone touch him, but on the other, he begged them to get the mud off him. Every time they went near, he would beg them to stop. Even Professor McGonagall didn't know what to do. Maybe if she let him go through it, he would tire and burn himself out to sleep. She was reluctant to force the Calming Daught on him before his body settled. The nightmares would force him further over the edge...and somehow, not far off , Voldemort was not pleased. Harry could hear the Death Eaters pleas for mercy as his scar exploded, sending little lights bursting through his already obscured vision.

Harry now lay on his back, arms covering his entire face. He had screamed himself hoarse. The Death Eater's cries for mercy had taken over his panic about being buried until now...Voldemort was done. There was silence as Harry forced his eyes to remain closed. The panic over the mud on his robes had not been all his own, and this was why he couldn't handle the intensity of it.

The scene before those charged to watch over the poor boy as he lost his mind, was too much, even for the stout Shaklebolt. He had seen Harry hold it together on many occasions at St Mungos when a fully grown man wouldn't have gone on so bravely as Harry had done. He didn't know him as personally as the rest did, but he felt that Harry was strong and would once again heal.

As Harry settled, he knew the breakdown had not been all his now, but he was afraid to hope that he'd felt Ron's fear. Not that he wanted Ron in fear, but fear meant life.

"Please believe me. I might be nuts, but not about this. I know where Ron is!" he said suddenly and forcefully. No one believed him as he struggled against a paralysing curse shot by a reluctant Professor McGonagall, who looked like she had shot him, so Hagrid could force the Calming Draught on him. Hagrid looked heartsick to have to do this.

"It's fer yer own good Harry. You'll feel fine soon," Hagrid soothed through tears that landed on Harry's chest, causing a little mudslide. Harry slumped back on his pillows feeling betrayed and helpless. Hagrid looked more pained than Harry had ever seen him. He wiped tears with his shaggy coat. He was still wearing the ugly yellow suit that he'd changed into for supper.

Harry felt his body relax in Hagrid's protective embrace, which had started out as a restraint. Hagrid was not meant for this. He was a nurturer, despite his grand size. Harry blinked peacefully, all the faces above him swimming peacefully in and out of out focus. He couldn't fight the effect of the Calming Potion, but as he began to mumble under it's effect, everyone first thought his tortured mind was spewing nonsense until they began to pay attention. The Calming Potion may have been a blessing in disguise, for it had washed away Harry's fears about everyone upstairs, and left him open to his feelings like in his dreams.

At first, he mumbled incoherently, hearing Tonks crying at the sight of him being manhandled like that, so distraught. Professor McGonagall could be heard saying, "poor child," and crying softly as well. There wasn't a dry eye near. Everyone felt like they were experiencing one of Harry's nightmares, that they had all witnessed at St Mungos, only this one was different, still fretful and not making much sense, but coherent enough to follow.

Hagrid rocked Harry back and forth absent mindedly, stroking the dark haired child's loose strands from his face. Hagrid was shocked as he looked at Harry's face, and his deep green eyes flew open in a moment of complete lucidity.

"Ron! I know where he is. I could feel him. It's not far." Harry pushed out of the stunned Hagrid's embrace, only to sink to the floor before anyone could register what had happened to catch him.

"Hagrid, please! Listen to me...I know where Ron is!" Harry pleaded, as Hagrid soothed him.

"Sh...sh, don' worry now, Harry. Dumbledore himself has gone back out looking fer 'im. Half the DA you trained yerself is out there too. They'll find im."

"No, Hagrid, he'll die...Please!" Harry begged for someone to stop saying 'there there,' and listen. Hagrid looked to Professor McGonagall who shook her head, to advise Hagrid that Harry was justifiably distraught but not competent. Hagrid did not want to go against Professor McGonagall, whom he respected as much as Dumbledore, but as Harry's pleas became more intense, and no word came of either Ron, Luna or Neville, Hagrid became uneasy with a decision he had to make.

Harry had fought hard to stay awake, to master himself, but with the sad display of his perceived mental state, out for all to see, he was not considered credible. Harry must have felt better, at least mentally, because he'd graduated to a different kind of panic. What if no one treated him normally ever again? What if he'd just proved for everyone, what the Daily Prophet had said about him for years... he was mentally unbalanced.

Nothing could be further from the truth, but this had been expected for a long time. The Muggle doctors had warned them about severe mood swings after such intrusive surgery and long recovery, not to mention further attempts on his life. It was all quite alarming, but normal. Either way, they weren't going to take him seriously now. They just stared at him with pity and sadness, except Hagrid, who felt guilty for denying Harry's pleas for help.

"Hagrid, you know me. I'm not mental," Harry said miserably. If Ginny were here, she would believe him...or would she? Harry knew he could not bare it if she had seen him like this. "I'm not mental...Hagrid?" but at this point, he felt he'd cracked.

When he'd about given up on this avenue, Hagrid, looked into Harry's red rimmed eyes. He looked so tired. He would humour the poor teenager, if only to set him straight. "Okay, Harry. Tell me where yeh think they are at," Hagrid instructed a little too kindly. Harry would take what he could. Harry knew that although Hagrid felt he was just patronizing him, the result would be the same one way or the other.

"He's in my grave!" Harry blurted out, panic rising hysterically with being allowed to finally say it out loud, and hoping not to be silenced again because of the connection between his hysteria and his perception of where his best friend was. Hagrid laid Harry gently back onto the pillow and promised to check it out.

"Take me with you, please Hagrid?" Harry begged, feeling it may be his last chance to see Ron alive.

"It's out of the question Potter," Professor McGonagall ordered, feeling that the kind hearted Hagrid was just comforting the poor lad.

"Please, Hagrid?" Harry persisted as they all were still amazed at the teen's constitution while still under the effects of the Calming Draught. It was at that moment that Dumbledore arrived to seek more recruits for the search party, now that the Death Eaters had retreated.

"Professor Dumbledore Sir. Harry claims to know where Ron is, and I fer one,believe 'im," Hagrid said stoutly.

"Indeed?" Dumbledore replied, taking in Harry's prone body. "Explain, please," he instructed Harry, holding up a hand to silence Professor McGonagall's objections.

"I see," said Dumbledore after listening to Harry, looking grave indeed. Harry mistakenly thought of this as a bad sign, like the Headmaster thought he'd popped a clog as well, but then, fresh hope was afforded him. "Hagrid, please accompany me to where Mr Weasley is waiting with members of the DA search club. Harry couldn't help but be impressed that Dumbledore had used the DA name without hesitation.


	38. A Saving People Thing

Professor McGonagall looked like she wanted to smack Hagrid, as he spoke up for the silent Harry, who didn't want to say any more, for fear of blowing his progress. His sanity was already in question, at least to his mind. Additional DA members were getting to leave and join in the search for Ron, Luna and Neville.

"He wants ter come," Hagrid pointed at Harry.

Much to Professor McGonagall's protests, Dumbledore took her aside and explained that Harry feeling useful would help his tortured mind. Hagrid carried him as easily as if he were a small child, wrapped up in his large coat. As they approached the grave, Harry shivered, not with the cold, but with an all consuming fear. Not for himself, but for Ron. Maybe they were too late!

Professor Dumbleodore blasted the Earth from the grave, which was now twenty five feet deeper. They found nothing. Going deeper, Dumbledore had blasted into deep water and Harry realized, with a sinking feeling, that they were too late. The feelings that he'd had from Ron, had only been his insanity, and worse yet, he could now hear Ron's voice in his head. It wasn't for a full minute, that Harry realized that they'd all heard it.

Once again, Dumbledore removed more dirt from around the grave, layer by layer, punishingly slow so as not to cause a cave in. They would all be drowned and Harry was sure he'd never be able to face the Weasleys again. The voiced ceased as water rose deeper.

"It's not yer fault," Hagrid began, before Harry could start. "We didn' listen."

Harry demanded that Hagrid put him down. He knelt beside the grave, having given up. It had been over five minutes since the whole area had covered over in water. Even Wizarding medicine couldn't repair the damage this would cause.

"Ron! No!" Harry cried, holding his hands up to his eyes, as his mind tortured him with a mental pictures of holding Cedric's body in the graveyard, to watching Sirius falling through the veil, to pulling Ron out of that hole to give to his parents.

"Harry? Harry! Get us out of here!" came Ron's frantic voice. Watching Harry draw his wand, Dumbledore stood aside to let him take the final attempt at rescue. He knew Harry needed this.

Exhausted, Harry watched in joy and disbelief, as Dumbledore levitated the three trapped students out of the hole that Harry had successfully blasted. Ron and Harry grabbed one another.

Harry would have laughed with relief at the sight of Ron in his bubble head, if Neville hadn't just burst out, "Professor Dumbledore, Luna's hurt badly!" Dumbledore took Luna on a stretcher back to the school ahead of the others.

"Ron!" shouted Mr Weasley, running up to him and drawing him into a huge hug. "Oh, Ron, come on, we've got to get you all up to the Hospital Wing,"

The Calming Potion had completely worn off Harry now, and though he was beyond exhausted, he needed to walk back up to the school under his own steam. Hagrid knew that Professor McGonagall would not approve, but he also knew that Harry had to prove something to himself. The relief of knowing for sure that the panic he had felt tonight, was not all his own, was quite exhausting in itself.

"Neville, she'll be fine. Madam Pomfrey's patched me up a million times," Harry tried to reassure on the way back to the school. Neville wanted to believe him, but what came from his lips next, although meant to comfort Harry in return, had the opposite effect.

"I'm sorry we let you down, Harry. We just didn't have time. He came up so fast, and..." Neville was so earnest in his apology, that it almost made Harry cry. Neville had taken his narrow escape from being the boy the prophecy spoke of, that secretly, in his heart, he believed he was more responsible to try to protect Harry than even Ron and Hermione.

Harry just stopped, blinking away tears from his eyes. He wished now he'd never let Neville find out about the prophecy. He wished he could erase that one turmoil filled day that the two of them had fought, from Neville's memory, but Neville had something else on his mind as well, revenging his parents, and there was fire in his eyes when he spoke of it.

Ron and Neville caught Harry between them as he collapsed before climbing the many stone steps. His scar exploded, and this time his whole body went rigid with all consuming pain. He laid in Ron's arms, every muscle in his body twitching. Voldemort did not value his Death Eaters as much as they had hoped. One of them had just become an example, and this one would never trouble Harry , or anyone else ever again...

When the pain finally let go, Harry's body was shaking, and he fought to tell them of his vision. Harry knew by the force of this punishment bestowed on the servant of the Dark Lord, that they would try harder the next time. The severity of the emotions from Voldemort to Harry, had been the strongest yet. Harry was not coherent, and his breathing was ragged. He had never come this close to being so much a part of what was going on in the Dark Lord's world, even when he had seen the giant snake attack Mr Weasley in the Ministry of Magic.

Somewhere through the fog in his brain, Harry could hear Ron calling frantically down at him. "Harry! Harry!" Ron was terrified that Harry would not come back to himself this time. He'd been so worn and tired when this had taken hold of him. Harry wanted to tell Ron that he was back, but it was all he could do not to vomit all over him. Hagrid picked him up as Mr Weasley put his arms around Ron and Neville and led them back into the school.

Harry moaned and opened his eyes. It was chaos in the Hospital Wing, but Harry vehemently refused to be tended to until everyone else had been taken care of. Charlie was lying in a bed near the end of the ward, his shoulders heavily bandaged in gauze, and Mrs Weasley was sitting next to him, putting cold cloths on his forehead.

Someone was in a bed surrounded by four people, and Harry knew it was Lupin. He heard snippets of conversation such as the Matron asking, in a worried tone, "How long will it take to measure it, Albus? The full moon is only three days off."

"We will know by tomorrow earliest," came the voice of Professor Flitwick. "The silver bullets have a cross between a Reparo and Engorgement charm placed on them, as well as a time delay. Once the pieces are forged back together again, we will be able to measure if any of the fragments are missing. Already they are twice their original size."

"There is nothing to do but wait," said Madam Pomfrey sadly. Harry felt his whole body jump when he heard his favourite teacher's voice.

"I'll be fine. I've had worse," Lupin tried to convince them and himself, but he sounded scared, and Harry knew, werewolf or not, Lupin was afraid.

"That's right, Remus," Madam Pomfrey soothed. "Oh, the times I had keep you here after Sirius and James..." she began, but Madam Pomfrey began to cry. No one had considered what a strain this war would have on her. She was the one who always made it better, the one who kept it all together. Harry could see her shadow straighten as she mastered herself, ashamed at having broken down in front of a patient. Harry wondered if Lupin was more scared now that Madam Pomfrey had shown herself unable to do much for his problem.

"Severus dear, please make the potion as strong as you possibly can this time," the Matron instructed. Snape said nothing but gave a nod and left for the dungeons.

Once again, Harry heard Lupin speak, urgently now that he was awake. Harry saw his shadow sit up behind the curtain. "Dumbledore, did anyone make it...Harry...is he..." Dumbledore took Remus by the shoulders gently laying him back down.

"We were lucky...this time, Remus," Dumbledore's tired voice could be heard saying.

This time...Harry knew, he'd felt it, that there would certainly be a next time. He knew it would take place before the summer holidays. Voldemort would not let him return to the safety of Privet Drive again. The vision Harry had endured, told him that Voldemort would return to the school. He had heard him say, that it must be done before June. Harry knew that the Death Eaters would be more motivated, now that the Dark Lord was through showing mercy to them for the years he had spent roaming without a body of his own. It wasn't today, or even tomorrow, but they were coming for him. Harry wondered if he met them on his own, if the others would be spared, but he knew the answer before it had even fully formed in groggy mind.

Harry wanted to go to Lupin, but he didn't know what to say, and he was too weak to rise from the bed if he'd wanted to.

"Poppy, you were right, the girl's going to be fine, but her leg's still broken. Harry saw the Matron stride out of sight to set Luna's leg. Mr Lovegood had been nervously fussing over Neville, not able to see his daughter yet. He washed the dirt from Neville's face, and Harry could see patterns of Neville's face, where the tears had been washing away the dirt first. Neville's gran sat with her hand on his shoulder, ordering him to stay seated until he'd been healed. He hadn't even felt the rock hit his head as the mud caved in, but he did know that the blood on his collar was his own. Luna had looked untouched and beautiful to him. He let an audible sigh of relief escape his lips, upon hearing that she would be fine.

Harry had hoped that somehow, Neville's parents could have come to Hogwarts for family week, under supervision of course, but he now knew that Neville had been told nothing about the new experimental medicine that had been consented to by Neville's gran. Harry knew that she must have been protecting Neville by not getting his hopes up too high for a recovery for his parents. Harry knew that a small visit out of their ward and a few confused words from Neville's mother, for the first time in fifteen years was significant, but he also knew that though gran considered Neville stronger than she'd ever hoped for, she still considered him fragile.

Madam Pomfrey tended the most grievously wounded first, and when she put her wand into Charlie's mouth, it sang out, 'ninety nine point seven and falling.'

"Looks like he's out of the woods. He'll need to stay at least four days to take some Derma Grow, and to be monitored for infection," Madam Pomfrey informed a very relieved Mrs Weasley.

George sat beside Fred, who was laid in the bed with his arm in a sling supported in mid air magically.

"Any feeling at all in the finger tips ye,t Mr Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey asked Fred, not wanting to show concern, like she had in front of Professor Lupin.

"No, ma'am" Fred said, sounding very young and entirely too formal. George put his hand on Fred's good shoulder. "Ah, you're just going to try to get a few weeks off like I had," he tried to reassure Fred, who agreed weakly. Madam Pomfrey had Fred drink another vial of Connecta Grow mixed with a sleeping draught. Looking into George's face with her hand under his chin in an appraising manner, she asked, "You are unhurt?"

"Yeah...Madam Pomfrey, is Fred going to lose his arm? It shouldn't be grey like that still should it? We've probably broken every bone in our body with one stunt or another over the years, and it's never looked like this before," George said, after making certain that Fred was asleep.

"You're twins...I'm returning you back to your parents as a matching set, like you arrived in," she smiled at him, hoping she was right.

Tyler had been a huge help just by bandaging and cleaning minor wounds that could spare Madam Pomfrey and Stephanie's time. Parvati Patil had already taken a healed Lavender Brown back to her parents in the Great Hall.

Hermione had just caught sight of Harry and Ron. As she embraced them, she sobbed, "I thought Ginny and I were the only ones left, and when she was finally called to the Matron...I felt so alone!" Harry and Ron hugged her back. Ginny rushed up to them, joining the tear filled reunion.

Harry couldn't explain it, but when Ginny put her arms around him, he finally felt safe. Hagrid had been standing protectively over them the whole time, but it had taken this small girl to make his tension filled body, finally relax.

Madam Pomfrey closed the wound on Neville's head and ordered him to remain a night in the Hospital Wing for observation, and if he could be close to Luna, this suited him just fine. Madam Pomfrey gave him a Calming Potion and assigned him a bed.

Madam Pomfrey knew better than to try to order Hermione and Ginny out while she tended to Harry and Ron. She found that Ron had actually taken in quite a lot of mud into his lungs, which would explain the wheeziness and feeling like he couldn't quite draw a full breath. Ron was a little like Harry in this capacity. He would not mention his own discomfort in the face of so much to his mind, serious wounds. In this case, the remedy was almost as bad as the infliction. A Coughing Potion. Ron was forcefully reminded of the day he'd spent vomiting slugs into a bucket in Hagrid's cabin. Madam Pomfrey gave him a tray and told him to expel the foreign substance when the coughing became strong enough.

Ron now knew how much Hermione must like him, for she insisted on accompanying him to the cubicle Madam Pomfrey had assigned him to, to expectorate the mud. Half way through the treatment, poor Ron thought his ribs would break from the harshness of the potion induced coughing. He lay back exhausted fifteen minutes later, feeling like he'd run a marathon and had been beaten up at the finish line. Hermione stayed with him rubbing his aching shoulders gently, trying not to cry in front of him. She placed cold compresses on his forehead, as Madam Pomfrey put an Incubator Charm around his bed to help with his wheezing and heal his lungs.

Before giving Ron a calming draught, the Matron instructed Hermione to have Ron inhale some vapour medicine which was green and smelled minty. He smiled weakly at what he knew was the best girlfriend in the world, and she kissed him softly on the lips as he passed out.

Hermione crept out to check on Harry and Ginny. Harry still didn't feel like being touched, save for Ginny or his close friends. He wasn't ready to be intruded upon, but he did have a tremendous headache, and he found out why he'd been so dizzy, even before he'd been personally attacked. He'd thought it was nerves, but it turned out that the dizziness and the fact that all the voices in the Hospital Wing sounded so mashed together, was that his ear drum had been punctured somehow.

Madam Pomfrey healed that in an instant, but was, as Harry feared, more concerned about his mental health. She flashed a light into his eyes and asked him his name and a lot more personal stuff that he couldn't think why she would ask. "You have a concussion Harry," she told him.

"I thought your pupils looked large," Ginny commented. "I was thinking of mentioning it to you, so you could ask the Matron," she added.

"Very good, Miss Weasley, ten points to Griffindor. That is the classic sign of concussion." Ginny blushed. Many were the times were the times her mother had diagnosed and treated concussions in her boys over the years from Quidditch accidents to experiments gone wrong. It was only natural that Ginny would pick up some of her skills.

Professor Dumbledore had informed everyone that school conduct would be carefully monitored during this time and would go on as usual. DA students had earned their respected houses many points this night. They could not go on as though nothing had happened, but once it had been ascertained that there had no fatalities...yet...the cleanup began in the grounds.

Harry took the news of the concussion as a way out of being questioned about his breakdown in the Great Hall. "Er...yeah, got knocked on the head..." he told her, hoping that she would just take that as an excuse for all that happened, including the horrible vision of Voldemort that he wasn't ready to talk about. "Don't remember much..." he lied.

"Well, Mr Potter, I can't seem to find any external injury on your head or neck or even ear, that would explain your concussion. Harry realized with a sinking feeling, that he had sustained the concussion while having the vision of Voldemort torturing his followers. He could now vividly remember the painful popping sensation inside his ears and the explosion of lights in his head. If Voldemort knew he could cause this much damage, just through emotion, Harry would be dead in no time. He needed to master Occlumency ,and fast.

After Harry had been given something for the pain and a Calming Draught, the Matron had him moved, to his embarrassment, carried by Hagrid, back to he and Ron's room. He and Ron were both now clean and in their pyjamas. Mr Weasley checked in on them and gave Hagrid a hearty pat on the back, glad that he would be standing guard over his boys tonight. If Voldemort was bold enough to return for Harry this night, it would have to be for a very desperate reason.

Every available Order member, who wasn't directly needed elsewhere, now converged on the school, including the ones who looked to be the same age as the students themselves. They were mistaken for pupils, which was exactly what Dumbledore had in mind. These younger members of the Order, dressed in school uniforms for formal activities and jeans and jumpers for casual. Only the Weasleys and certain members of the DA were informed that the Order members posing as students, had a sort of befuddlement charm on them, which would serve to make other students who saw them in the halls or about, to automatically feel like they'd seen them somewhere before.

As things calmed down in the castle, and new wards were placed all around the grounds, it became quieter and quieter as one by one, everyone but those on security detail, fell asleep. The castle, which had been charmed to resemble a grand old hotel for the week, now resembled a fortress in war.

Ron's steady breathing, reassured Harry somewhat, but his own calming potion had failed to take the whole edge off everything he felt. He knew that his public hystria had happened for real, as he tried to figure out the day, but he also knew that some of the absolute terror, had been his own, while some had been...no...he wouldn't think of it. He didn't know why his display had caused him lasting embarrassment and worry. Any fully grown wizard would have popped a clog going through even half of what he'd been through this year alone, yet alone a lifetime of it.

When Hermione had gone back to Ron, after giving them some time alone, Ginny had tried to convince Harry that he'd reacted normally, and she was very much surprised that he had opened up, even a little so soon after what had happened. She had been warned by Hermione and Ron that Harry did not divulge his feelings freely.

The open grave played on Harry's mind so forcefully, that he considered trying to sneak out and fill it in himself, but he knew he'd be caught, as Mad Eye Moody had taken over for Hagrid's break. Harry was also quite sure that a Locator Charm had been placed upon him. It was then that Harry was reminded of the Marauders map, made by his father, Lupin, Sirius and Pettigrew, the remarkable map that showed where every person in Hogwarts was and what they were doing. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it before.

Grimacing about his own stupidity, Harry wondered if the old Marauder's map could be used to show intruders in the castle and grounds and sound an alarm of warning. It was better than a Muggle security camera, and Harry thought happily of telling Lupin about his idea...if Lupin lived the night...no, this calming potion wasn't working at all.

Madam Pomfrey had fallen asleep on her desk, quill still in hand. Mrs Weasley, finally convinced her children would all make it through the night, had fallen asleep in a chair beside Fred's bed, still holding his good hand. Fred had been heavily sedated, worried about the possible chance that he would lose his arm. Harry lay in his room, now praying that Fred would not lose his arm, because that would mean...that the future he'd seen before, was real.

Ginny remained awake, talking to Tonks, covered in George's cloak, which he had placed about her shoulders when she became chilly.

It wasn't long after poor Harry had closed his eyes, that the nightmares took him. Ron, who was used to this, having lived with Harry for many years, was the first at his side.

"Harry, Harry! wake up, it's me, Ron," he called softly, gently shaking Harry's shoulders. Harry became quieter, but did not wake, and continued to moan and plead.

Ron felt terrified when Harry opened his eyes and he couldn't tell if Harry was still dreaming or awake. Harry clutched Ron's arms, eyes wide, and pleaded with him. "Promise me Ron, Please...promise me..." he wailed.

"What, Harry? Anything, you know that," Ron soothed, feeling very uneasy looking into Harry's over large pupils. Ron figured that Harry's injuries were causing this behaviour. Usually when Harry woke from a nightmare, he would shrug it off and tell him not to worry about it, but this time, it broke Ron's heart to have his best friend pleading with him, tears streaming down his face, making him swear... "Please Ron, don't let them do that to me again!"

"Do what, mate? Do what?" Ron prodded, figuring Harry was meaning the Death Eaters or even Voldemort.

"Put me in there!" Harry responded shaking violently. "In that grave!" he shuddered. Now Ron knew what Harry was talking about. He would have gone for help if Harry didn't have him clutched so tightly, but he also knew that Mad Eye was just on the other side of the door, and Harry was a very private person.

"You have to burn me," Harry said decisively. "When I'm gone...when Voldemort kills me...promise me you'll burn me!" Now Ron was crying too. It had never come to this. They had faced peril together before, but Harry had most often been so brave. This nightmare had put him through hell.

"He's not gonna win, Harry. You are. We are." Ron told him forcefully, wiping at his eyes, knowing that for once, he was going to have to be the example. Ron thought Harry would stop his bizarre request, once he'd woken more fully, but he did not.

"Do we have a pact?" Harry asked, seeming to be awake now. Ron would have done anything for Harry, but agreeing to this, was like admitting defeat prematurely. In the end, to calm his friend down, he had to agree, that if Harry died, he would see to his final request. A little calmer, Harry lay back down.

Ron, who was very much in shock, sat on the edge of Harry's bed. He wasn't even sure that Harry had been fully awake when he'd made his own final arrangements, but Ron had been told by Hagrid in private about Harry's breakdown, partly on his behalf.

Trying to save some of Harry's dignity, Ron assured Mad Eye Moody, who'd checked in, that Harry had nightmares all the time, and it was nothing to worry about. Before Ron made his way back to his own bed, Harry thanked him for agreeing to his wishes so sincerely, that a lump formed in Ron's throat, and Harry shook his hand, making the pact formal and binding. Ron couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, when a small knock came to the door, and Ginny entered timidly.

Ron could see how tired she was, and under ordinary circumstances, he would have encouraged her to go to bed, but he needed help. Ginny helped Ron back to his bed, and then went to sit with Harry. Knowing that Harry was in good hands, Ron let his exhaustion consume him, still shuddering from having agreed to carry out Harry's final wishes should it come to that.

The mere touch of Ginny's hand, made Harry feel more at peace, and he knew that she wouldn't leave. He wanted so much to talk to her, but the security of her presence, made him fall asleep without even knowing he'd done it. He hadn't told her of his dreams, he just revelled in the soft kisses she placed on his hands, which she held to her face and especially the tender one she placed on his lips.

When Ron woke, he was glad to see Harry sleeping peacefully, still hand in hand with Ginny, who was finally tired and ready to sleep. Harry seemed lost when he first woke up and it took him a minute to figure out where he was. He was both embarrassed and relieved to find Ginny hadn't left him. He wasn't sure how to address Ron, or if Ginny had witnessed his nightmare or anything that had followed. Ginny did not question him, she just smiled at him, and asked him how he felt.

Harry honestly wasn't sure how he felt. He now remembered a nervous exchange of whispering between Ginny and Ron last night. "I'm calling mom," he'd heard Ginny insist. Then, "no let him sleep,he's fine, leave him be," followed by, "no he needs help," and, "He needs time to think," Ron had said, and they had argued back and forth like that. In the end, Ron had won out. This would be private, and Harry was grateful.

Ginny awoke to find Harry looking at her...no studying her. She was beautiful. It became quickly apparent, though, that she'd gotten little rest last night and woke in no mood to be lied to.

"Are you okay, Harry? Ron told me about the nightmares. Do you need to talk?" Ginny needed him to open up to her, to finally be a part of his support system that only Ron and Hermione had been a part of until now. Ron knew Harry would lie to her, to save her feelings, and he groaned inwardly. He wasn't wrong.

"I'm fine," Harry lied.

"Liar!" she scolded, through tears of sheer exhaustion and worry. Harry brushed the her away, much to her surprise. He wondered how the truth to this question could possibly make her feel better with all that was going on with Charlie and Fred.

"Okay, I've been better," he admitted. Harry had no idea how to answer this question that was put to him every day now. "What does everyone want me to say?" he lamented. It was an awkward moment. Ron just shrugged his shoulders, wondering if he should have gotten Mrs Weasley last night after all.

Ginny looked into Harry's eyes. "Sometimes...just sometimes...let me in...tell me the truth." she knew this was asking way too much, but when tired, one can be unreasonable. She kissed Harry lightly on the lips and left to get some rest.

'Thanks," Harry said to Ron darkly after she had left.

"For what?' Ron asked, feeling guilty about not getting Harry the help he so desperately needed.

"You know..." Harry didn't think he'd have to explain it to Ron, but Ron had other ideas.

"Harry, mate, I know you've gone through hell lately...always," Ron began timidly, "but you've got to start confiding in someone. Maybe you'd sleep better at night." Ron was only trying to help, but Harry felt very defensive, and he couldn't help it.

"I'm not a little kid, Ron. I don't need a mommy to come tuck me at night. I can handle it. That's what you told Ginny last night."

"You heard that?"

"Yeah, and I thought it meant you believed in me."

"I do Harry, but what is about you and not accepting help?...and my mommy," he spat defensively, "just sat up all night looking after two of her kids who were hurt looking after you! You, who she sees as one of her own!" Ron didn't mean to make Harry feel more miserable than he already was, but he felt a little on the defensive for Mrs Weasley. He didn't care if he was sixteen, he'd watched Harry suffer horribly with no parents to comfort him, to ever feel old enough not to need and appreciate his own.

"I'm sorry Ron," Harry murmered. There were times like this, when he didn't feel worthy of the Weasley's concern. Ron's parents had four wounded children, two seriously, and one in exile, all because of this war, and somehow, Mrs Weasley seemed to love Harry more each day. Harry just could just not comprehend this, he'd had nothing to compare it to, and sometimes the unconditional love was overwhelming.

Ginny had informed Mrs Weasley that Harry and Ron were awake, and she arrived first in their room. She looked so tired, yet she smiled and kissed them both. Feeling better, Ron hugged her, and left without saying a word. The one time Harry wished she would press him for information, she didn't. There was a moment of silence, where Harry feared that he would lose her. He was scared to death that she would finally see how much danger her children were in being around him.

Mrs Weasley began crying and Harry had no idea how to handle it. She had always been the rock, the supportive one everyone looked to. Even now, she wasn't crying for herself.

"Oh!" she sobbed, "I thought I'd lost you all." Harry remembered her crying once before when a Boggart had turned into a living rendition of all her fears, her family being slain, and he remembered now, that he'd been among them. How much was it going to take for him to finally believe that he belonged to a family who would stick by him no matter what.

"It's okay," was all that Harry could come up with.

"Look at me, falling to pieces when I should be making some breakfast. Charlie's doing so much better... Bill's sitting with him now." Harry didn't mean to be rude when he suddenly blurted out,

"And Professor Lupin, Is he..."

"Still alive Harry, and doing well, but in two days time..."

"What? In two days time, what?"

"They're almost certain they got all the silver bullet shards out of him, but if not..."

"He'll die," Harry finished numbly. His mind counted the dead automatically, against his will. He wondered if Voldemort was keeping score. He was winning after all.

'Harry, I think you should go and speak with him," Molly suggested. Harry was scared. He had no idea what to say to his teacher and friend. "I'll take you to him, and then Madam Pomfrey wants to see you again."

Harry could not believe that when he opened the curtains around Lupin's bed, the Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, actually smiled at him.

"You gave 'em hell last night Harry," Lupin complimented. Harry couldn't think of anything spectacular he'd done to earn this compliment.

"If James could see you now," he beamed. Harry thought it would be impossible to feel any worse, but at the mention of his father, Harry sat down on the edge of Lupin's bed, not because he wanted to, but because his legs would have buckled otherwise. His weakness was not only for himself, but for Lupin, the last of his father's old friends, the Marauders. Sure, of the Marauders, one remained, Peter Pettigrew, but he was lost to them another way, having become Wormtail, Voldemort's most prized supporter. Lupin had lived a very hard life as well.

"I'll be gone for a few days, Harry. You know why," Lupin winked at him.

"I thought with the potion that Snape made you, you could just stay with me," Harry had meant to say, 'stay here,' but it had come out in the desperate way he felt. He couldn't handle Lupin dying...it would feel like the last link he'd had with his parents was gone for good.

"You know it's for the best Harry, don't you? Accidents have happened in the past, and there's too much going on here for me to stay."

Harry looked at the wall, not wanting Lupin to see him cry. Harry thought Lupin would be one of the few people who didn't know that he had freaked out in the Great Hall last night, but he was wrong.

"That was an impressive bit of Legillemency there Harry, feeling Ron's emotions so you could find him. Severus has told me all me about it, while he sat here last night." Harry could not digest this loaded sentence as he stared at Lupin.

Legillemency? I wasn't doing Legillency. I just freaked out," Harry admitted with extreme shame.

"You 'freaked out' because you felt Ron's fear. Professor Snape performed a Legillemency charm on you, right after you'd been given a strong calming potion, so you wouldn't remember.

Harry searched his brain for memory of this, but could find none. He wondered if Snape had ever invaded his thoughts when he'd been incapacitated before. This information was of great concern only to Harry, it seemed, and since when did Severus Snape spend a night sitting up talking with Professor Lupin?

Somehow, Professor Lupin seemed calm about everything. Did he know the danger if there was any silver left in him when he transformed? As if in answer to this, Lupin sighed.

"We have to look at this situation like this. If Voldemort is this eager, this war won't last long, and we can get it over with." As Lupin looked Harry straight in the eyes, Harry could tell, that once again, it was Lily's eyes he was seeing. Harry had always looked like his father, but with his mother eyes. He was told this often. He wondered if his mother had been the Marauder's version of Hermione, and the fact that she too was gone, made him fear for Hermione and Ron even more, as Ron had now become more than just a friend to Hermione. Harry didn't care if he sounded sexist when he referred to his mother and Hermione in his next statement.

"Voldemort didn't care even about women and little children..." Harry trailed off as Lupin looked at him, expecting him to continue, but it was at that moment that Harry fell to the floor, scar feeling on fire, until his agonized screams from the floor of Remus's room brought everyone within earshot running.

...women...children...Harry as a baby...the green light of death. They all flashed horribly in his head until he passed out. Ron, who'd been talking to Charlie and Bill tried to get into the room, but his way was blocked by Kingsley Shaklebolt. Ron felt very reckless at this point, yelling, "Let me in you great git!" Shaklebolt did not want to hurt Ron but he gripped as forcefully as necessary.

Mr Weasley ordered Ron to go back with Bill and Charlie. Fred had woken up with a start, almost jumping clear of his bed at Harry's sudden agonized cries. Fred's slung up arm swung violently and he yelled in pain. Fred could have cursed George for having a moment of happiness at a time like this, until he realized what his twin was so darn happy about. "That hurt!" he said indignantly, not knowing how serious things were in Lupin's room.

"Yeah, I know it hurt. That's great!" George beamed as Fred finally woke up enough to remember last night. "It's healing! It'll be fine. You'll be on the Quidditch pitch in no time." George was only trying to buy his twin another moment of happiness before he found out about Lupin and had time to worry for Harry. It wasn't an unusual thing for Harry to feel pain in his scar when Voldemort was this close, and with a shudder, they all wondered just how close that was.

Harry had been moved to his own room as Madam Pomfrey dealt with something she had never seen before in all her years of healing. Harry was thrashing around as though someone were beating him, and though Hagrid, Mad Eye Moody, Professor McGonagall and Bill, who'd been called frantically into the room, held down his limbs to prevent him from hurting himself, bruises and cuts and what looked like whip marks appeared all over his body from no where.

Ron was fuming mad when Tyler entered Harry's room without being met with an argument. He was the one Harry looked to for help, and so far, Ron felt like he'd let him down. For once, Ron wanted to be the one to help. He had no idea how badly he felt about everything that happened to Harry this year, especially the kidnapping that had taken place almost under his very nose.

Snape strode up the ward, looking like he'd just gone to bed, and Ron of course knew nothing of Snape's having been with Lupin all night. In the confusion of Fred's yelp of pain and Ron's yelling at Shakebolt, no one had noticed Professor Lupin get shakily to his feet to go to Harry. Lupin was not strong enough to leave his cubicle and Ron had to help him back to his bed.

"Who's with him?" Lupin asked hoarsely. Ron named everyone, displeasure evident in his voice. Professor Lupin related having had a similar conversation with Harry in his third year. Ron confessed that at times, he felt he was of no use to Harry at all, which was not at all the truth. Harry had never been called 'brother' before he met Ron and he had taken his symbolic adoption by the Weasleys very seriously.

Lupin tried to reassure Ron, though doing so while listening to the poor boy's screaming, wasn't working.

"Harry really doesn't know that I'd die for him," Ron told Lupin sincerely, feeling as though his heart was going to burst from his chest having to hear anguished screams from he and Harry's room, and feeling grateful that Ginny wasn't here to hear any of this.

Ron felt a real need for Hermione's usually reassuring way in situations like these, but even he knew that it had never been this bad before when Harry had had a vision or had felt Voldemort's emotions... It had never really made him wonder if his friend could live through it, like he was starting to worry now...it had never gone on this long. Ron continued nervously, acting as though he wasn't worried.

"Of course, I don't want to die, but there isn't much of a life if Harry gets...you know, anyway," he finished, pacing.

"It is because Harry does know that you would die for him, that makes him so reluctant to rely on you. Just to have someone like you and Hermione, and now Ginny too, in his life, is enough, and now to lose you, in your pledge, would be harder on Harry, even if he came out victorious over Voldemort. He'd have no one to share it with..." Ron knew that Lupin was reflecting on the fact that he was the last of his friends, the Marauders. It hadn't really dawned on Ron before that even if Harry someday succeeded in killing Voldemort, he could end up alone.

The screams continued to rip from Harry's body as Ron wanted to cringe away, pulling his hands up to his ears. If it went on for much longer, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself, he'd just have to break in to get to Harry. For now, at least he could at least try to calm Lupin.


	39. One Way Or Another

Hermione entered Lupin's cubicle in tears. She knew as well as any of them present that Harry was not having one of his ordinary visions, if indeed, any of them had ever been ordinary in the first place.

They cringed listening to Harry's screams that sounded like they were being ripped from his body. Ron and Hermione both gave Lupin a fleeting look as they were frantically ushered into Harry's room.

Snape stood, arms folded in their way. "Get out of the way! We were called in here!"

"Stop the insolence and listen to me very carefully." Snape's eyes glittered dangerously. He watched the confused expression on Ron and Hermione's faces as their families hugged them like it may be the last time they would see them. They looked like they were going to the gallows as Snape suddenly told them there was no time for talk and hustled them inside.

The sight that met their eyes made them sick. Harry was covered in fresh wounds. He had stopped flailing and now lay face up, eyes open, but unseeing, barely breathing. Whatever torment he was being put through, Madam Pomfrey explained anxiously, had been strong enough to break bones, and had battered his whole body.

"What happened to him?" Hermione asked, sounding very small.

"He is being punished...for not dying," Snape answered without thought. Mr Golden and myself have used a form of Legillemency to attempt to bring him back, but he is being held captive."

Ron instinctively looked for ropes or other such bonds, but of course, there were none. "It is our hope that the two of you can save him. It is our fear that Voldemort has only stopped his physical assault to taunt Mr Potter." Snape told them, as Tyler agreed with a nod.

"Wait Severus, please. I must ask Mr Potter's friends something first," Dumbledore said, turning to Ron and Hermione. "Because you have pledged your protection for you friend here at such an early age, I must ask, do you stand by your pledge?" They did not know what they would be asked to do, but they would do it.

"Yes," they both chorused at once, but they wished Dumbledore hadn't asked that unnerving question, because now they knew that whatever they were going to have to do, could cost them their lives.

"Headmaster, there is no time," Snape informed Dumbledore again.

"Proceed, Severus," Dumbledore said, looking at Ron and Hermione as though he were taking a mental photo of them to remember them by should something go wrong, and as yet, they had no idea what they were being asked to do. As Harry grew even chalkier, their determination steeled.

"I will use Legillimency to enter your minds. You must not," Snape impressed, "picture me in your mind or bring my name or any image of me at all into whatever takes place from then on. It is vital. Do I make myself clear?" Snape asked threateningly, making it hard to guarantee that there would no after thought of fear of the man.

"Yes," they answered numbly once again.

"It will work as before, with Mr Golden here as the conduit. Clear your minds." Snape had not really given them time to clear their minds to prepare for what was coming. He was a much more powerful wizard than they had known. Snape had pulled them into Harry's thoughts in their Animagus forms, Ron his small killdeer, Hermione her large tawny owl.

They were outside in a field and they knew they hadn't travelled far to get there. How had Snape forced them to transform? They landed in a tree where a sight met their keen eyes with a scene that made their blood run cold. Harry lay in a heap on the ground, while Voldemort ranted and raved over him.

"If I can't get to your flesh to break you to bits, I will bore through your soul until your body is a hollow shell!" The Dark Lord had lost all the traces of his former looks of Tom Riddle. There was no humanity left in him at all.

Voldemort was usually like Draco Malfoy, always surrounded by his cronies, but having no actual body to kill, he felt this was not a good enough show for his Death Eaters. Even with the bones in Harry's hands and feet that had been shattered, Voldemort was in a fury over the fact that he could not accomplish killing him. As long as Harry's heart beat, the prophecy would remain unfulfilled. Voldemort did not want to show his fear that the boy was getting stronger, so he would punish him in private for once again, failing to die.

Ron and Hermione knew they had to break Voldemort's connection, then they could take Harry home, back to Hogwarts, what was left of him. Harry looked much worse on this plain. Before Hermione could stop him, Ron's pent up anguish led him to dive toward the ground, wings failing to flap. He landed as though dead on the ground next to Harry. Harry could see the killdeer. He was conscious on this plain, wherever he was.

Voldemort suddenly laughed a hateful wheeze, as though he didn't do that much. "You were raised by Muggles, Harry, weren't you? Like me? Religious were they? Anyway, you know what they say, God sees the little sparrow fall...and what do you know? I did!" he smiled at his own reference to himself being God. "And now, I will make you fall..." Voldemort raised his wand and Harry's body raised into the air as the 'dead sparrow,' rose us to attack those pitiless red eyes.

Far off, Harry could hear an owl screech in fury as Hermione's talons tore into Voldemort's outstretched wand arm. Voldemort bellowed his insolence as the connection between he and Harry was broken. "How dare you!" He trained his wand at what he had thought so foolishly was a sparrow, his eyeless socket bleeding, the remaining one slit like pupil fixed on the little bird.

Harry was so weak, he imagined Tyler's voice inside his head. "You have to come back now Harry, if you do, they can come back too."

"...they can come back too? Harry knew that he had to gather the strength to get them out of there, even if it was too late for him, he wanted to go back to Hogwarts to die. He wanted to save his friends. He could muster enough strength to leave this place without Voldemort looking directly down upon him, then Ron could do what he'd sworn to do only last night. He hoped in his foggy thoughts that Ginny would not watch him burn. It was bad enough he'd asked his best friend to do this for him when he died.

When Harry fell back into his own body, he could feel all of the torment his body and mind had been put through. He heard screaming and it took a full minute to realize it was his own.

Ron and Hermione came back to themselves in somewhat better shape than anyone had expected. Their bodies had not stirred or thrashed about like Harry's had. They did not stir. Madam Pomfrey had to heal Ron's tongue as he layed still as stone. It had been hideously burned by something.

Harry could hear people talking, but he could not decipher who they were, or what they said, only that they were trying to help him. He felt the warmth of blankets draped on his aching body. He tried to make sense out of what he heard next.

"It was a mistake to stop focussing on Occlumency heavily once we learned that Severus' blood, had accelerated Voldemort's mind connection with Harry. We have let our guard down too soon there. We felt sure that the boy would suffer no further intrusion than he had in the past, and in fact would be better able to control any episodes of it this year. I felt certain that once his blood had been watered down so to speak, in Harry's body, that he would be safe. I keep making the mistake of thinking we have time." Harry knew that voice and for the first time, he heard Dumbledore crying openly.

If possible, Snape was more ill equipped to handle this than even Harry. "The boy would have been long dead if not for you, Headmaster," Snape told Dumbledore consolingly, like he'd lost a bingo game.

For the first time, Dumbledore's voice sounded hopeless. "I did not encourage them to become the Animagi they were starting to become on their own," the old man lamented.

"The strain of learning Occlumency and becoming an Amimagus, in Potter's weakened physical state, would have proved too much for the boy," replied Snape. "When you first brought him here, it was for rest, yet we still pushed him to learn Occlumency in his very sleep... maybe in the end, it will have paid off."

"We are far from the end, Severus, that is if we can keep him safe until he has regained his strength, both physical and magical."

It went without saying that the Family Week activities would be postponed, however Dumbledore, for some strange reason, saw fit to invite the families to stay and enjoy the accommodations at their leisure. The already failed beefed up security, had been quadrupled since the attack, which for most people, had finally signified the beginning of the war that Harry and his friends had been fighting for years.

Ron woke up on his side in a bed, not remembering much at first. His mouth was dry and his lips were cracked. When he opened his eyes, Hermione was staring back at him from the bed opposite. The room was full of people and Ron finally remembered what had happened.

He felt like someone had lit a fire in his mouth. "How's Harry?" he croaked.

Tyler seemed to be the only one who was not adversely affected by participating in the dream to save Harry from Voldemort's clutches. The boy sat with his hands inches from Harry's forehead with his eyes closed.

"He will be okay, physically anyway," Tyler answered Ron as Madam Pomfrey saw to Harry's wounds. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances of worry, but for some reason, they trusted Tyler. It was easier to trust him than the alternative, which was to see how bad Harry looked and think they'd be starting from square one in his healing.

The next morning, though exhausted, Ron and Hermione seemed to have suffered no permanent damage, though Ron's throat was still rather raspy. Poor Professor Lupin had been allowed in to see Harry before he had to leave for a few days...everyone hoped. "Harry, you're in good hands. You've got to come back to us. I hate leaving you at a time like this, but you know I have no choice. I've heard all about your Animagus form again. You're James' son, I would expect no less. I hope some day when you three... manage to master your transformations, that you get to have some fun with them." Lupin looked like he was recalling the good times he's spent running around with Sirius, James and Peter. No one knew that Harry was hearing snippets of the conversation and he had thought that if he'd ever have a good time running around as an Animagus, there would be someone missing...Ginny.

For a couple very brief moments after Lupin had left, Ron and Hermione were alone with Harry, and Harry could feel that the three of them were alone. If there was a good time to come to, it was now.

Harry wanted to open his eyes, but there was the fear that when he did, he wouldn't be where he thought he was. He had to convince himself, that even if that were true, he'd have to find out sometime. Harry was alarmed when he did try to come back to them, it was harder than he thought it would be.

"Harry?" Hermione called softly, fearing the blank stare she got in response. Seeing Harry stir, but not respond, made Ron call to him too, despite the fact that he didn't know if it was the best idea at this point. Harry had opened his eyes for a brief second before closing them again. Ron felt drained himself, and he knew that Harry would be much worse off, but an inner panic awoke in him that told him that he needed to see Harry awake for even just a minute, to see if he was all there.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Harry as he forced his eyes open again. Hermione knew instantly that he had come back to them with his mind intact, just by looking into his vividly green eyes. He was all there. Harry was too weak to join in the conversation, so he just listened and nodded for the two or three minutes. He managed to keep his eyes open, grateful to see two familiar faces there to greet him on what he could only describe to himself as the other side. It looked as though Harry was having trouble focussing his eyes when he appeared to look right past them suddenly. Even in this weakened state, he still found himself looking for her, maybe because of this weakened state, he needed her, and for once in his life, Ron cottoned on quicker than Hermione.

"Ginny's been here for hours. She had to be sent away to get some sleep, but she'll be right back, promise." With this good news, Harry couldn't fight sleep any longer. Harry wondered if Ron was just lying to him to make him feel better, after all, hadn't he been told that Ginny hadn't visited much at St Mungo's because she couldn't bare to see him in pain? With his fresh injuries, he feared that she would stay away for longer than he could stand.

Harry had no idea how injured he had been. He wasn't in much pain, except for the dull ache in his scar, which almost seemed routine now. It was late afternoon on the Tuesday of Family Week. Mr and Mrs Granger came to visit the hospital wing to see him and everyone who had been injured.

Hermione's parents didn't want to get into a speech about how dangerous it was to be friends with Harry Potter. Mrs Granger, alike in personality to Mrs Weasley, was moved to pity when she saw Harry again, so pale and tired, when just yesterday, she had been so pleased to see him making progress. She looked from Ron to Harry and back again.

When Mrs Weasley came in to speak to MrsGranger, the picture did not escape both mothers. Mrs Weasley was here for Ron and Mrs Granger for Hermione. Mrs Weasley had always been there for Harry, but still, as he lay there sleeping, the picture of innocent youth, they both silently wondered about Lily Potter. She had never gotten to comfort her son in his pain, had missed all of his milestones, and had never seen any of his remarkable accomplishments.

Looking upon Harry's sleeping face, it seemed as if an internal struggle was going on inside the Granger's minds. Mrs Granger had tears in her eyes as she studied Harry's bruised face. Hermione cringed when her father cleared his throat to speak. She feared that now that he had seen first hand the danger that lurked around Harry, they would pull her from school. Ron squeezed her hand tightly as Mrs Weasley looked on with worry.

"Hermione, honey," Mr Granger began. "The situation at this school has really heated up. We only understand what we've learned recently. We aren't like most of the parents at this school. Other's parents have had years to digest this Voldemort business. We feel like we've sent you away to a war zone, not a school."

"Dad...no..." Hermione fretted.

"Let me finish Hermione," her father persisted. Hermione was glad that Harry was not awake to hear this conversation. He had enough self placed guilt about she and Ron's involvement in his life. Hermione held her hand softly to her mouth.

"We also believe," Mr Granger's voice cracked, "that there are some things worth fighting for," he went on, looking sympathetically down upon the beaten boy. Are you certain that this is what you want?"

"It is," Hermione replied through tears. They had to ask. They knew what her answer would be, from the last time her life had been brought into peril for being Harry's friend. Ron was grateful that Harry had not stirred. It had been hell for Harry having had to deal with Cedric Diggory's parents after his death at Voldemort's hands. The Diggory's had not made him feel guilty, he had done a great job of that himself ever since. Harry hadn't approved of the pledge that his friends had made on his behalf, but they had managed to convince him somewhat, that without his victory over the Dark Lord, life as they knew it would be over anyway.

"Very well, we stand by your choice." Hermione's parents had already played a very significant role in aiding the Order, but they wanted Hermione to know that they supported her decision to protect Harry, but that they would also still be proud if she came home. They did not know of the official pledge their daughter had taken, but even as Muggles, they knew that there was a bond between these boys and their daughter, and it was meant to be.

Mrs Granger ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. He had that effect on mothers. Dumbledore had told Harry once that there were families out of count that would have been only too happy to raise him as a son, but he had ended up with one of the worst families he could ever have, the Dursleys, who not only were not honoured, but very embarrassed to have him in their home.

Ginny had come to Harry's side as soon as she had woken up, angry not to have been called sooner. It frustrated her even more to learn what Ron and Hermione had done to save Harry, in that she hadn't been there. She knew in her heart that there had to be something more that she could do for Harry. She secretly loved him, so why was she never a part of helping him in the way her brother and Hermione had?

Mrs Weasley looked at her daughter, who was casting a relieved glance to Ron, and she could tell her daughter cared deeply for Harry, as she absent mindedly kept brushing his hair back. Mrs Weasley wondered why Harry, a very handsome lad in her opinion, had no girlfriend, so to lighten the mood, she asked why this was. "Haven't you two set him up with a blind date?"

"What's that? Why would she have to be blind? He's not that bad looking," Ron stated, seriously indignant on Harry's behalf. "I mean, sure, his hair's a bit ruffled, but most girls, my sister especially, find it quite attractive." Hermione laughed heartily. It was hilarious to see Ron defend Harry's obvious good looks with such indignation, and she would be sure to inform Harry when he woke up, just how good looking Ron thought he was.

"What?" Ron asked, still indignant.

"Ronald, a blind date is not a blind girl. It's a person you've never met before. A date set up by other people for you," Hermione explained, trying to sound patient and non condescending.

"Oh!" said Ron sheepishly. "Right, but we've got it covered, before anyone gets any big ideas. Ginny's gonna marry Harry." When everyone stared at him, including Hermione, he added. "I mean, they're seeing each other. They're a couple," he corrected, though he couldn't stand the thought of Ginny dating anyone else, especially since he knew Harry was a decent guy.

Mrs Weasley had a small moment in her head, where a small ceremony between Harry and Ginny took place, and she smiled warmly at the boy in the bed. Harry's picture was already on the family clock, and besides, it was at this exact age where she had met Arthur. She then frowned, realizing that of course, the boy in the bed, was not a normal boy. He had a pre determined destiny that had the potential to break her daughter's heart. Mrs Weasley was proud of Ginny for the quiet way she had helped Harry up until now, not pushing, but not letting him pull away. Even she wasn't sure what the relationship between Harry and Ginny actually was.

Everyone except for Harry, ate together in the Hospital Wing. Harry also slept through dinner, at which time, Ginny let everyone know in no uncertain terms that she was angry at not having been woken up to come to Harry's side.

She collected her tray of food and went to sit in Harry's room. Charlie, who was feeling a good deal better, called out to her teasingly, trying to soften her mood. "Sure, Bill and I come all this way, and you go eat with your boyfriend."Ginny paused for a moment, looking torn, and realizing that she hadn't really spent as much time with her injured brothers as she should have and she didn't take the joke well in all of her worry.

"I'm just kidding Ginny," Charlie smiled at his young sister. "I'll be here for awhile, don't worry."

Ginny, forgetting about his head injuries, ran to him and embraced him tightly. "Oh, I'm sorry Charlie, Bill, You know I missed you guys while you were gone, and that we haven't seen much of each other...it's just that he's..." she trailed off looking in the direction of Harry's room, "alone."

"We know, Ginny," Bill consoled, wiping her tears. Usually, Ginny had been very tough, and he wondered what had wrought this change in her. It was hard to watch her sincerity.

"You really like him don't you?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, I do," Ginny whispered. She waited to hear things like, "but Harry's very busy so leave him alone," and such like that, but instead Charlie turned her chin up and said, "So get in there."

"Thanks Charlie."

Fred and George, always trying to provide some relief of sad situations, called out to Ginny, who had somewhat lost her nerve to enter Harry's room.

"But Ginny, you haven't even asked about our Fred's arm yet, poor bloke," George said, holding up Fred's 'stump.' The twins had been demonstrating their headless hats to Charlie and Bill, who'd never seen them before, and George had stretched one of the hats over Fred's injured arm, rendering it invisible.

"Very funny," Ginny smiled, feeling a little bad that she hadn't even asked Fred how his arm was healing. She hadn't meant to be callous, but she knew that if Harry woke up alone, he would be confused, and would need comfort. "Sorry Fred, how is it?"

"Madam Pomfrey says I'll never play the violin again," Fred said sadly.

"You've never played a violin in your life, Fred Weasley," she giggled. "Seriously are you alright?"

Fred's tone changed to one she had rarely heard before, and she knew he was being quite serious now. "I still can't move my hand," he said, looking down at the invisible hand. It may not be great for Quidditch," he said seriously. "Or writing, but heck, I'm no poet anyway, so the girls won't miss that." He was still tying to be funny, trying not to show the worry that was wearing on him slowly.

Ginny hugged Fred so tight, he felt constricted. The truth was, Fred was being very brave. His neck, back and throat throbbed constantly despite the many potions he was taking. George caught the many restrained grimaces of pain every time Fred moved, by just looking into his identical face. The twins weren't often serious, and Ginny was moved when George removed the headless hat from Fred's arm and took his cold hand in his own.

"Madam Pomfrey's on it. She says she should have something for it soon," George assured his twin and Ginny.

"Yes, then you can start violin lessons. It would be nice to have someone musically inclined in the family," Mrs Weasley said, trying to sound hopeful.

"She'll make you do it to, almost nineteen or not," Ginny said to Fred.

"Ah, yes, but we came as a matching set, so she'll make you do it too," Fred groaned, remembering the many occasions being a little upset by having been paired with his twin. Thinking back on this, made him laugh at the irony that they had voluntarily gone into business together.

"You know, I reckon we should contact Angelina and Katie Belle. This arm of yours has to come with some serious sympathy snogging!" George smiled.

"Honestly you two!" Ginny said. Trust the twins to take Dumbledore's advice to take the war seriously, but not forget to live, to heart. As yet, there had been no deaths on their side, but no one had the heart to go on with the full plans of Family Week. Dumbledore informed them that there would indeed be a Quidditch match and a dance still.

Ginny bent low to kiss Fred in his bed, and up onto her tip toes to kiss George. She entered Harry's room, scanned carefully by Tonks, as was her strict custom now, even with the most familiar visitors. Harry looked peaceful, no signs of the agony he had endured on his face, only the bruises and cuts. She had stared at his handsome features for over an hour, longing to see those brilliant green eyes she had admired since she'd been a child, upon her first glimpse of him so alone on platform nine and three quarters. When she'd finally gotten what she'd been wishing for, it wasn't the way she'd expected. Harry's eyes flew open in terror and he screamed out in pitiful wails of pain, his hands flying to his forehead, and in so doing summoning everyone into the room led by Tonks.

Dumbledore, Tyler, Madam Pomfrey and Snape all grabbed onto Harry's limbs, expecting the same frightening sight as yesterday. There were no new wounds appearing on his helpless body, as Dumbedore sadly came to the conclusion that this was a normal nightmare, not for everyone, but for Harry.

Ginny had been pushed aside, but fought her way back to Harry's bedside, where he had just awoken, scared out of his mind to find himself being held forcibly down. He was also embarrassed. Now everyone knew about his nightmares.

"Let...go of me!" he screamed, flailing around, not knowing why he was being held, and seeing Snape there, did not comfort him. Harry felt his tired sore body roll into a protective fetal position. Hermione and Ron had arrived, both ready to risk themselves for Harry again if necessary. Hermione grew teary eyed, watching Harry shake. Ron had seen this before many times. Only Ginny remained calm among the three of them. She knew Harry needed someone who would just be there, not talk, not question, there would be adults for that later. Right now, she knew he needed calming.

Madam Pomfrey gave Ginny a vial of calming potion, gesturing for her to try to coax Harry to drink it. Madam Pomfrey hated to approach Harry, who at the moment, clearly dreaded anyone's touch on his body until he could figure out if he was really back or not. Dumbledore wisely suggested that Snape leave the room, though the Potions Master left grudgingly, feeling centred out. The Headmaster tried talking to Harry, but he could not listen. Madam Pomfrey asked him gently to let her examine him for any injuries, but he could not comply. He just lay there, curled up in a ball shaking.

Being the youngest in the Weasley family, Ginny was used to having to stand up for herself for things she really wanted, or needed, and now she stood up for what Harry needed, just his friends, his confidants, and for everyone else to leave him alone, even just for awhile. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

Madam Pomfrey, Professor Dumbledore, maybe there are just too many people in here. I could try to get him to take this," she said, indicating the calming potion, "if you'll just let me talk to him." Madam Pomfrey was thinking between hexing Harry into compliance of an examination and letting Ginny try to calm him. She finally reached the decision that the poor boy needed a moment, and hoped that she wasn't making a mistaking in not examining him immediately. The Matron ushered all of the adults from the room.

Ginny sat patiently on the side of Harry's bed, gently massaging his back. Taking his shoulder, she gently helped him roll onto his back, where he lay with a furrowed brow, looking like his was throbbing. She rubbed his temples and a quiet involuntary sigh escaped his lips. The furrows in his brow diminished.

Hermione gave Ron's hand a squeeze, which they had clasped in worry over Harry and she motioned to the door. She Ron and Tyler left Ginny alone with Harry, but not before Harry had given them a grateful look and a weak smile.

For the longest time, Harry said nothing, just keeping his eyes shut in the luxury of Ginny's finger tips on his temples. He opened those beautiful eyes that she had been so longing for and asked, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Ginny asked, moving her fingers into his hair.

"You know, take me away for awhile...forbid me to worry, even just for a minute?"

"I'm not so sure it's me, Harry," she answered. "You...just seem to need me..." Maybe it was because in all of Harry's life, through all his hurts, there had been no one to tend him who meant as much to him as Ginny did. As she continued to run her fingers through his hair, he felt his pain diminish and his eyes almost rolled back into his head from the relief.

The effects of the calming potion which she held to his lips for him, made him a little more willing to talk than normal. "Ginny?" he asked dreamily, feeling his muscles let go.

"Yes, Harry, what is it, do you need something?" she asked , somewhat worried about his tone.

"Yeah...you," he answered her, staring into her face. Ginny didn't know what to say. She knew that calming potions often cause a person's feeling to become amplified, but there had to be at least a base for his profession of needing her, after all, it wasn't veratiserum he'd just taken.

"I need you too, Harry," she said aloud, while to herself she said, 'more than you will ever know.' She knew that Harry didn't want to be needed by anyone, at least until he found out if he stood a chance of sticking around to be worthy of such a statement. Ginny was just going to have to take that for now, but Harry wasn't going to sleep without a kiss he would remember.

Harry initiated a kiss for the first time in his life.

Ginny had been snuggled up to him, when, with every ounce of strength he possessed, he drew her into a tight embrace and kissed her like he'd wanted to since she'd visited at St Mungos to rub his back. They'd kissed before, but not like this. Harry never wanted it to end. He felt wide awake now. He wondered if he'd have had the nerve to do this without the calming potion. Probably not, he admitted. Ginny couldn't help but giggle when Harry fell asleep wearing the silliest grin she'd ever seen in her life. There would be no more nightmares this night.

"Wow, Gin! How'd you do it?" Ron asked, impressed by his sister's skills to calm. "I've never had much luck in calming him after a nightmare." He and Hermione had peaked in to check on Harry.

Ginny turned beet red, but couldn't resist taunting her big brother. "Well...I could teach you, but I don't think Harry would like it much if you did it, but than again, if you did it, it would definitely snap him into reality..."

Ron was just about to ask her just what it was she had done for Harry, when she giggled and the Matron came in.

Madam Pomfrey didn't seem much perturbed when she found Ginny was still there beside her patient. She knew how exhausted everyone was, and the fact that Harry had gotten any sleep at all, could be attributed to Ginny's presence. It seemed strange even to Harry , that this girl, inches shorter than he was, could make him feel so safe.

Harry woke up to daylight streaming into his room, not remembering Madam Pomfrey's examination or much else, except Ginny. There was a comfortable weight on his chest, which turned out to be Ginny's hand. Ron had slept out in the ward, and he came in to retrieve his house robe to put on over his pyjamas, as it was a very drafty morning. Wincing slightly upon sitting up, and startling his best friend, Harry began talking very fast.

"Er...Ron, it's not what it looks like. I fell asleep. I didn't know she stayed. I only kissed her."

If Harry hadn't looked so pathetic, Ron would have laughed. Of course nothing had happened in the condition Harry had been in last night, and in fact, it was good to see him worried about something normal for a change. Ron couldn't resist a little teasing, as glad as he was to see Harry pink cheeked and somewhat stronger looking. It was good not to have to talk about what had happened right away.

"You know it's not me you're gonna have to answer to, don't you? Bill's just arrived. He was only going to come for the finale and the dance, because of work, but since there had been injuries, he came right away. Harry had no idea that Ron was joking, as groggy as he felt, and having never received solid advice on matters such as dating, had no idea what to say. Even he knew, as inexperienced as he was, that having a girl in your bed looked bad, especially if it was your best friend's sister, who had six older brothers to contend with.

"B...Bill? Here? But..just ask Ginny," he implored Ron, nudging Ginny awake.

"S'matter Harry?" Ginny yawned, sitting up, hair very tousled, with a few pillow imprints on her beautiful sleepy face. Ron couldn't torture him anymore. It wasn't fair. Fun, but not fair.

"What was I thinking, look at her!" Ron smiled slightly at his little sister. Actually, when Harry did look at her, he thought she looked very cute, and it was then that he knew it for sure...he was falling for his best friend's sister, hard. How, when so much bad had happened, could feelings like this even find their way to the surface? Harry knew now, that love beats fear, hurt and death, and it was bittersweet when he remembered what Sirius had told him, 'The ones we love never really leave us, they stay with us in our heart.'

Harry wanted Ginny in his heart and in his arms, and now he was resolved more than ever to fight Voldemort with everything he had left. Professor Trelawny, the Divination Teacher, who had foretold Harry's death many times over, had recanted her prediction in retaliation against Umbridge last year. She proclaimed, as Umbridge clearly hated Harry, that Harry would live a very long life and have twelve children. Well, Ginny was used to a big family, Harry thought, before scolding himself. 'Why do I keep thinking about these things?' He would gladly have kissed Ginny again, ruffled hair and all, if Ron wasn't still in the room.

Ron informed Ginny that Bill had been called out during the night to help set up better wards around the castle with Dumbledore and some of the other Order members. Harry looked forward to seeing Bill again, as he always had interesting stories to tell them about his job as a Curse Breaker for Gringott's Wizarding Bank.

For some reason, Ginny had become clumsy around Harry again. It had been the kiss. She left Harry's room giving him nothing more than a small kiss on the forehead, nothing more than Hermione would have done, which in front of Ron, was a relief, but a worry as well. This was all so confusing. He worried that maybe he had kissed wrong...was there a wrong? He'd never kissed like that before, so he had nothing to compare it to.

Harry grabbed his robe from the side of the bed and made to stand up.

"Whoa, hang on there, Mate, I don't expect that's such a great idea," Ron informed Harry nervously, recalling the horrors of last night, but what Harry remembered or didn't remember, he wasn't saying. It was clear to Ron that Harry hadn't realized the seriousness of his injuries he had sustained from Voldemort. All he wanted was a shower for his sore body, before the fussing would surely begin. Against his better judgement, Ron helped Harry up, but it was then that the Matron came in.

"Mr Potter! I have not cleared you to get out of that bed yet. I may not have given you trouble about having a girl in your bed, but I will not have you walking around until you have been checked out."

Madam Pomfrey seemed to say, 'hm ,hm' rather a lot more than usual, and took meticulous notes about every scratch, bump or bruise on his entire body, drawing them on a map of the human body she had brought with her. Harry had never seen her do this before, and he kept peering over her shoulder to see what she was writing, when usually he could care less.

Madam Pomfrey had him roll onto his side, and she put some ointment on a very tender spot on his shoulder. He pulled his pyjama shirt down, asking what was wrong with his back. She seemed almost reluctant to tell him, scared of reminding him of his tortures, but she didn't have to say anything in the end, for as Harry felt the ointment burn slightly before soothing, he remembered the torch Voldemort had been burning him with over and over again. It all came back now, as Madam Pomfrey documented the marks all over his body.

Madame Pomfrey knew that it was Dark magic indeed to have inflicted this much damage on Harry without so much as laying a physical hand him.

Harry now wonderd why Voldemort hadn't just ended it then and there, but then he remembered the Dark Lord telling him that if he wouldn't die like this, he would torture him until he lost his mind and come for his physical being later while it was left helpless.

Ordinarily, Harry would have been petrified by these memories, and there was no doubt he was, but the memory of what Ron and Hermione had done to save him, got him to thinking. He had been physically injured, so it stood to reason, at least he hoped, that perhaps Voldemort had also been compromised in some way.

Maybe this battle they had just fought would halt Voldemort's plans for awhile to let him heal and allow the Order time to devise new plans of attack. Harry knew Dumbledore would be the one to talk to about this, but he had to get everything clear in his mind first. He had to wait until he could say out loud what had happened to him. In all the commotion of trying to get protective wards back up around the school, no one had questioned Ron or Hermione about how they had called him back. There was so much more to this than anyone realized, and maybe a glimmer of hope in the quest to fight the Dark Lord once and for all. Perhaps Voldemort could be damaged in the same way he had, if he only learn how Voldemort had done it.


	40. Whole Again

"Alright, dear, are you sure you want to try getting up? I'm sure your friends, and Miss Weasley won't mind coming in to have breakfast with you," Madame Pomfrey said after making certain that the bones in Harry's feet and hands had healed. She seemed very glad that Harry had smiled upon hearing mention of Ginny. At least something could make him smile through these dark times, because the potions just couldn't keep up with all of his wounds, especially the emotional ones.

"I'd hoped for a shower, you know, before I go out and see...you know..." His request was granted, but Madam Pomfrey made Ron help Harry walk to the showers just to make sure he could make it, and Tonks of all people was ordered to stand guard right outside his shower stall. Due to this, Harry had to change into clean pyjamas in the cramped shower stall. This was going to be very inconvenient indeed.

Mrs Weasley almost cried when Harry walked out into the ward. They were all so silent. Harry wished someone would speak.

"You know you're supposed to comb your hair after you wash it, right?" Fred teased him at last.

"Actually, I did," Harry smiled and a very subdued laugh was had by all present. They all knew that no matter what Harry did with his hair, it remained pre ruffled, like the image of his father, James they'd all seen in pictures.

Harry knew he hadn't been the only one injured but he expected most people would be up and around by now. Fred's arm was still slung up at a rather odd angle, and he knew that this shouldn't be so, and that the twins would still joke even in times of great uncertainty.

"How is it Fred? Your arm I mean?" Harry asked, remembering how distraught he had been thinking he'd been permanently maimed.

"It's...er...coming along," Fred replied looking toward his twin. Harry knew he was lying, but the twins prided themselves on being pains in the neck for a lot of reasons, and neither of them had ever been anything but brave. Harry would not pry. He would get it out of Mrs Weasley later.

Harry looked around at the reminders of the devastating blow to the school. He picked up bits of conversation in the busy ward.

"There you go now, Charlie, that's better isn't it? No more bandage changes necessary. Once your new skin pinks up, you'll be fine to go," Madam Pomfrey told Charlie as Mrs Weasley sighed with relief.

Harry could not help but listen in when Madam Pomfrey made her rounds to Fred. Mr and Mrs Weasley sat near to his bed. Harry could not remember a single time when either Fred or George looked scared. This was the first. It looked like George was holding his breath as the Matron examined Fred's arm and hand. George exhaled sadly when the Matron informed them sadly that there had been no change.

"But, Professor Snape has been brewing a very strong version of Connecta Gro. We may yet have you back on that infernal Quidditch Pitch,"she ruffled Fred's hair, but everyone knew this was a long shot, especially Harry, who with a sickening drop of his stomach, once again, remembered the dream where Fred had been missing his arm.

'It can't come true, it can't come true,' he chanted to himself.

Mrs Weasley caught sight of Harry for the first time since the bad news had been delivered. She had just finished telling Fred that everything would be alright, and Fred had answered a little too heartily to be real, "I know it will," and Harry felt a warmth for Fred, being brave for his mother like that.

"Harry, dear, you're up! Come sit, we'll all have breakfast together. Bill will be back any moment,"she beamed at him.

"And Ginny as well," said Mr Weasley, looking directly at Harry. Harry was petrified that he'd say something about where his daughter had spent the night, but they knew their daughter and she was a responsible girl.

Bill had been touring Hogwarts to view all the security measures with a few Aurors and Dumbledore. As a Curse Breaker, he would be ideal to point out faults and suggest improvements. The breakfast conversation included introductions to Bill as the eldest Weasley son sat down on Charlie's bed, waiting for the question he could no longer avoid.

"Bill...the dragon, how's the dragon? When I was hit, the enclosure had just been blasted. I went to see what was going on, but then...I was hit again," Charlie trailed off, indicating his wounds.

"I'm sorry Charlie, I didn't want to tell you last night because you were still in so much pain." Bill looked at Charlie with sympathy, knowing that the dragon had been his charge and the attack on Sashu would have great implications for his future employment in Romania on the dragon reserve, but if Charlie was upset, it was nothing compared to what Harry was feeling.

"Sashu's gone!" Harry cried. "What if Voldemort's killed her...or the babies?" His eyes were wide with alarm.

"There are loads of very skilled wizards looking for her. The countryside around the castle is vast, she could be anywhere. Harry," Bill soothed.

Harry knew that Voldemort had been close by the school still when he had attacked his body through his mind, and he knew Sashu already feared dark wizards. They had hurt her before.

"Harry, dragons usually avoid human contact. She'll steer clear of them," Ginny told him, trying to sound positive for his sake.

Ginny sat quietly by the window with Harry for the rest of the day, staring out the windows on all sides of the Hospital Wing. He wanted so much to see Sashu, that even the clouds drifting slowly by overhead, turned into dragons floating lazily by. Just having Ginny's hand to hold, comforted him.

Snape gave Fred a potion for his arm for nerve and tendon regeneration. A spoonful of sugar would not help this medicine. Like Professor Lupin's potion, this one had a very nasty taste, and it came with very nasty side effects, nightmares, fevers, chills and sweating, as the body rejected all the new nerves and tendons it grew that were not necessary. Unfortunately, this potion could not be directed only to the injured area, it had to chorus through the entire body, growing parts that were not needed and rejecting the superfluous ones later. It was a last resort, but Fred was determined to suffer it through, even if it was just a slim hope of having it work. Many wizards had chosen to remain limbless or have lifeless limbs rather than taking this horrendous treatment, but Fred's mind was made up.

Mr Weasley steadied his son's shoulders as he drank the vial potion. Fred coughed and spluttered, willing himself not to throw it back up, because that would mean having to swallow it again. Max instinctively hopped up onto Fred's bed and licked his cheek, before going back to Harry. Everyone was on pins and needles, and Fred now regretted having had supper.

Fred passed out almost an hour after he taken the potion. Mr Weasley held his wife tightly as poor Fred screamed for a solid half hour, twitching all over. Harry wondered if that was how he sounded when he'd had his nightmares. It was harder to watch Fred in this unknown agony, than to have his own nightmares, and Harry held his ears, eyes closed tightly, until he felt a small body next to him. Ginny flung herself onto his shoulder and cried her eyes out. No one knew if they were more relieved for themselves or Fred when he finally stopped screaming.

The twins were normally such happy go lucky people, and brave beyond words, but now George looked physically sick by the time Fred calmed down. Bill had his hands on George's shoulders to steady him and Harry saw a single tear slide down George's cheek. Bill wanted to take George down to the kitchens for some tea, just to get him out of there, but George would have no part of that.

Ron and Hermione sat on the edge of Charlie's bed, trying desperately to find something to take their minds off of the situation. They read Charlie's notes on dragon observances. Charlie would not lose his job, but all of his documentation on new dragon behaviour guidelines, were pretty useless without a living example. Charlie had hoped to further the understanding of these magnificent beasts, but at the moment, he was thinking of his family, which ultimately made him think of Percy. How could he have come to be so ambitious in the wrong way? He and Bill had secretly talked about going to find him behind their parents back to find out exactly what was going on, and to find out if he would even care about the situation right now with his brothers.

For hours, Fred moaned in agony, until daylight, when finally, the first course of medicine was finished. Harry had been sent unwillingly to his bed in the late evening, despite his complaints that he was fine. Ginny gave him updates through the night, thought she insisted he get his rest. At times, updates were not necessary, as Fred's anguished cries could be heard throughout the ward.

George was glad to be there when Fred opened his eyes later. He touched his hand gently, feeling like he might break at the most gentle touch. "Did I grow anything extra that I could use?" Fred asked weakly, with that small evil grin. Trust Fred to joke at a time like this.

"Yeah, a brain!" George told him, almost tearing up again, but keeping it in check. "Are you okay?"

"No worse than having too much Firewhisky that time that we..." Fred replied, looking guilty at Mrs Weasley and stopping what he was about to say.

"Oh, you boys!" Mrs Weasley scolded, without much heart. "It's a wonder I'm not going gray!" Mr and Mrs Weasley hugged and kissed him and told George that he must get some rest. They knew of course, he wouldn't leave Fred's side.

Fred couldn't eat anything. Even the thought of the potion made him sick, but he was resolved. Fred's bravery made Harry promise himself that he would practice his Occlumency and Legillimency until he was proficient. If Fred could suffer through this, Harry would just have to gather courage and go after Voldemort with everything he had, so that things like would stop happening.

Seeing that all the hurts were not his own, Harry wondered about his own bravery. If he were not the one of whom the prophecy spoke, would he have joined to help the boy -who -lived right from the start like the Weasleys had done, or would he have waited for the war to be on his doorstep to fight? Was he brave? Ginny had told him he was, and for him that was now enough, as she had reminded him in a moment of self doubt about all of the good they had done already.

They had saved Sirius and Buckbeak. They had saved Hagrid from Azkaban by proving he hadn't set a monster loose on the school, and they had done so much more before they even knew of the prophecy, so yes, Harry realized with relief, he was brave, and he would have joined the effort even if he were not so directly involved from the start, he just wished that it hadn't cost him Sirius and so many more.

Although everyone could have desperately used some fresh outdoors time, they had been forbidden to leave the safety of the school. Harry had to wonder how safe Hagrid would be out alone in his cottage on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. When Dumbledore sent for Bill to check on the new wards, Harry asked him to check in on Hagrid.

About midday, Fred said he could feel a tingling in his hand, which steeled his determination to put himself through another two nights of this horrible treatment.

By the following morning, Fred had endured a night worse than the last. He did not wake until early evening the following day. Now, there were no jokes left in either of the twins, and even Madam Pomfrey seemed reluctant to let Fred go through another night like this. Fred was so weak and fragile looking, that he barely resembled his twin, who likewise looked very tired. He had come this far. He would not quit. Everyone was beginning to wonder if it wouldn't be easier to live with the lifeless arm.

When the time came to administer the final dose of potion, Fred insisted it was what he wanted, but his body had other ideas. He was too weak to fight his system, which fought to reject the potion. Mrs Weasley held a pail for him. The two days had been for naught but torture if he couldn't keep the third dose down. George buried his face in his hands. He would have his brother alive, but Fred had begun to let it sink in what would have to change.

They had never heard of a one armed Quidditch player for one. The shop was their own, so they could adapt any changes necessary there, but joining the Order now, would be a whole different thing. Sure, Mad Eye Moody couldn't be considered whole, but his past Auror training and magical eye, made him invaluable. Fred had no past experience or special talents, so he thought, then there would be Mrs Weasley to add to the list of barriers to joining the Order. With the list of injuries her family had sustained, they didn't expect the show of faith she gave them next.

"Well, then, Fred, you're going to have to get well and start learning special compensatory charms to make up for this injury if you're to join the Order by the first of April. Fred just looked at his mother, openly shocked. The twins were so much alike in more ways than looks, so it would be like breaking up a set for one to join the order without the other.

But Fred had no confidence in his abilities now, and he knew he was only getting a very small taste of what Harry had gone through. George tried his best to console his brother, while Ron , Hermione and Ginny did their best to reassure Harry that none of this was his fault, as he always thought when things were at their lowest.

Harry kept looking at his hand, and still couldn't believe it was intertwined with Ginny's. The small white scar where he'd had an intravenous, caught his eye, giving him an idea. He asked someone to get Stephanie and Tyler back from their dorms.

"What about injecting the potion directly into George's arm?" Harry suddenly asked. "Maybe somehow, it could be put right where it's needed, to avoid the side effects and rejection process that cause all this hell for him."

There had been no choice but Muggle medicine for Harry, but Mrs Weasley, who had once scolded her husband for acquiring Muggle stitches last year, was not keen at all on this suggestion. George was not sure how he felt about the idea, but he would not go against his brother if it was determined to be feasible. Stephanie had come quickly to the Hospital Wing, fearing the worst about Harry, but seeing him by Fred's bedside, she knew this wasn't about him.

Madam Pomfrey had almost thrown out the extra syringes she'd been delivered for Harry, seeing them as rather crude. "Ghastly things, those," she shuddered. Snape was also summoned to discuss the proposal of injecting the potion directly into Fred's arm.

It was decided that if the potion was going to be tried this way, that it would be injected intramuscular, thus eliminating it going into the bloodstream for the most part, and hopefully avoiding some of the horrible side effects. Fred hadn't even been able to talk about his nightmares under the potion's influence yet. Mercifully, Fred at least did not feel the injections, and Madam Pomfrey fashioned a tourniquet to stop the potion from going to the rest of his body while it was at it's most effective.

As Fred, who was still very sick from the previous attempt at taking the potion by drinking it, fell into an uneasy sleep, everyone stared at him, waiting for the nightmares to begin, but hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't. No one was sure if it was a good or bad thing, that the screaming of the two nights previous, did not occur. Everyone was worried that this might mean that it hadn't worked. George had finally fallen asleep sitting up, waiting for Fred to wake up.

"Pst, George!"

"What, What?" When George's eyes finally focussed from the two hours sleep he'd managed in three of the longest days of his life, he looked to Fred, who's fingers were wiggling in greeting!

"Good morning," Fred whispered, letting his poor mother continue to rest beside him in the chair on the other side of him.

"Yeah...really good," George replied quietly, very much relieved.

Harry was missing Ginny's company now that Ron was back in their room. Harry slipped out of the room past Professor McGonagall, just as Fred had woken up. Professor McGonagall had tears in her eyes, and Harry feared the worst, but his head of house looked at him and said, "Oh, Harry, it worked. The dear boy will be whole and fine."

Harry had never heard anyone refer to the twins as 'dear boys,' especially Professor McGonagall. Sure, 'those boys, those hoodlums, those troublemakers, yes, but never, 'dears.'

Seeing Harry standing looking at him in the semi darkness, Fred whispered, "Harry, look!" wincing slightly as he bent his wrist. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. George met Harry's eyes, reading in an instant that Harry was still finding ways to blame himself for all they had been through.

"It's okay Harry, you know it's not your fault." Although it was good to hear George say this, Harry couldn't help the guilt complex he'd developed , watching innocent people get maimed or killed to help him. This had to end.

Breakfast this morning was a good deal more cheerful than any time since the attack. Bill arrived back part way through, announcing that he'd never seen better wards anywhere than the ones that were now in place around the school, replacing the ones that had been broken down by the Dark Lord and his followers.

"Great," said Fred, "I for one need to stretch my legs," and he made to get up out of bed.

"Don't you dare, Fred Weasley!" Mrs Weasley warned. "You need to rest. You're staying put."

Fred looked helplessly over to his father, who took his mother's side. He was still very drawn and pale, but he protested vehemently when Madam Pomfrey gave Harry permission to get some air out in the grounds, but not him. Even as children, the twins weren't ones to dwell on sickness. They wanted up as soon as possible. Even when they had one of the common childhood ailments, dragon pox, they had snuck out and infected a few friends. Mrs Weasley had received complaints about this for months, but there were few ways to restrain the over energetic boys.

Mrs Weasley smiled despite herself, remembering the angry floo calls she received from angry parents about their children catching dragon pox from Fred and George. It wasn't so much the fact that they infected their children, but that Fred and George had put their own mark on the rash, which now appeared truly on the other children as tiny dragons, instead of the perfectly mundane little red dots that usually accompanied the ailment. What was worse, was that the tiny dragons seemed to fly all over the skin, causing the children to spend hours trying to catch them.

Fred finally accepted that he was not allowed to go, but not without arguing for a full ten minutes. In the end, he urged George to go out and get some air, noticing that he looked worn and pale himself. George was reluctant to go, but Fred finally assured him that he would rest for one more day, but if anyone told him he had to stay in bed for more than one more day, he'd go nuts. Mr Weasley made George feel better about leaving by bringing in a game of wizard's chess to play with his son. Even Fred seemed keen to have a game.

Determined to keep things running as normally as possible, Dumbledore instructed the house Quidditch teams to practice out on the pitch for spectators, and it was the pitch that the friends had started off to go towards, but half way there, Harry instinctively started toward where Sashu's enclosure had been. He wanted to see for himself that she had gone.

"Don't Harry," George told him, steering his shoulders toward the Quidditch Pitch.

Harry seemed to have so many different places to go to at once now that he'd gotten outside. It was as if the very air had scents on it that were pulling him into too many directions at once, and he suddenly blurted out that he had to go back to the school because he'd forgotten to ask Bill about Hagrid's whereabouts.

None of them had heard a word of Hagrid's whereabouts and no one could remember having seen him since the night of the attacks when he'd been ordered to hold Harry down during the mind attack by Voldemort. With a sickening feeling, Harry wondered what dangerous mission Hagrid had been sent off to perform. Harry knew that Voldemort had been in relatively close proximity to the school when he'd attacked him, and Hagrid knew the grounds around the school better than anyone else.

George had remembered suddenly, having heard parts of a meeting among the professors and Hagrid. Hagrid had offered to find Sashu, and Charlie would join him later when he was well enough to travel. Hagrid had left, with owls for communication and several of Charlie's friends from Romania who'd arrived only days ago upon hearing about Charlie's injuries.

"If anyone can bring her back, it'll be Hagrid and Charlie's friends...and Hagrid's a big boy, Harry, he volunteered, and he'll be fine," George tried to convince Harry.

"Yeah, If he's not caught by Voldemort or Death Eaters or Dementors, and Sashu will hardly be hospitable to him if he's trying to bring her back here, she's really protective of her babies."

With these words, Harry thought of his own mother, having died for him. It did not console him to learn that Hagrid had also taken Grawpy, who he'd claimed had improved in manners in leaps and bounds.

Thinking of the peril Hagrid had put himself in, made Harry feel bad about his indignation when Hagrid had mentioned that Sirius had taken too many chances with his life, but this was certainly calling the kettle black, and now Harry imagined himself hurling similar insults at Hagrid when he returned...if he returned. Harry was angry that Hagrid would take such chances, knowing that the woods surrounding the school were teaming with dark wizards.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team and their alternates were playing on a high note, upon hearing that Fred's arm was on the mend. Ginny zoomed around looking a great deal happier than she had for a long time. Harry felt watching her fly around this time, was almost as good as flying himself, but not quite. He wasn't even paying attention to the practice. He found himself watching her red hair streaking behind her, and when she stopped and the hair flew forward in her face, she brushed it away, and Harry couldn't believe how attracted to her he felt with this one motion.

When Ginny landed next to him, he said, "you look nice out there...I mean...great flying."

"And how about our ickle Ronnykins?" George joked, knowing that Harry hadn't even glimpsed at another player during the entire practice.

"Oh...er...good, really, great," Harry replied lamely. Harry did notice how much better George looked now. George went to change, while Harry, anxious to rid himself of the cane, took a few trial steps. He felt drained from Voldemort's most recent vicious attack, but a part of him, the part that was ashamed about not being out on the pitch with Ginny, or maybe even, he hated to admit, jealous that he wasn't out there, made him take a few trial steps. He felt like he needed to show strength in front of her now for some reason.

Harry waited for Ginny to change and the group made their way back up to the castle, asking Harry if he had any thoughts as to how the practice could have been better. Harry found himself making very vague, non committal suggestions about the performance he'd not watched in the slightest, while George added helpful questions about very specific parts of the practice.

"Yes, Harry, do tell us, when Angelina here, passed to Katie Belle, who missed by a mile, what do you think we could do to improve the coordination of Quaffle passing under those circumstances?" he asked, looking at Harry with a evil little grin on his face.

Harry glared at him for a moment as the girls all looked expectantly at him for advice. "Uh...er..."

"Prat!" Ginny said playfully to George, punching him lightly on the arm. Everyone laughed, and Harry felt distinctly on the spot. George had not bargained for Harry to encounter so much more real prodding and probing, or maybe he would have held his jokes for later.

They had passed many visitors on their way back to the castle, all stopping to show Harry their concern, or to enquire after his health. Most were just genuinely concerned, but others rudely curious. For the latter, George had some choice words, which the others were glad that no teachers could hear. George was clearly still venting after Fred's gruelling nights. He hadn't slept properly for more then an hour at a time since Fred had been hurt and it showed. Harry's imaginations of getting George back for putting him on the spot, melted when George stood up for him, like a big brother would have done. That felt good.

Neville took Harry aside as they passed the greenhouses to ask him if now would be a good time to give out the Firebolts that he and Luna had sanded and polished into almost identical replicas of Harry's broom. Harry couldn't think of a better get well present for Fred. When they told Fred they were going to the greenhouses, they were surprised to hear George say that he was tired and needed to sleep. No one could ever remember the twins ever having had a voluntary nap, even when they were two years old. Mrs Weasley had sworn she'd go gray before the twins became teenagers, so Ron thought he'd remind her later of that. Her hair was as red as it had ever been. If George knew what he would see in the greenhouses, he would have snapped wide awake.

"We think they're ready, based on what your broom looks like. The wood is fantastic," Neville told them proudly. Neville had never referred to any of his projects being done by anyone but 'me.' This new 'us' thing, told them definitely that Neville was in love with Luna, who must have been a very quick healer. Luna did not have the drawn, pale look of someone who had been as injured as she had been. Everyone else who'd been injured still showed visible signs of it, but here she stood, looking untouched, suffering no ill effects at all.

Professor Sprout had cleared the way for the removal of the new brooms. As far as she and Professor Flitwick could devise, there was nothing wrong with any of them, and Neville had received extra credit for his efforts.

Professor Dumbledore stopped them on their way to the hospital wing to tell them that there would be a small party in the Hospital Wing, to cheer everyone up. Harry was pleased not to have to return to the Great Hall too soon. The party was for eight o'clock, and it was still early afternoon.

Fred and George were both sleeping when they returned to the Hospital Wing, and Harry felt the need to sit down. Madam Pomfrey gave him a muscle relaxing potion and ordered him to take a nap if he wanted to attend the party in the evening. Freedom had been so close to him before this attack. He had to admit that his back would feel better laying down, so he didn't argue. He and Ginny had been holding hands the whole time, and Harry was reluctant to let go.

"Alone, Mr Potter," the Matron winked at him, as Ginny gave him a sheepish peck on the cheek and exited. Neville and Luna decided that the party would than be the best place to present the brooms, and they thought it would be festive to wrap them up in orange parchment decorated with gold pumpkins. Dumbledore had invited the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

In the Great Hall, there was to be a party as well. Nothing compared to what would have been planned before the war had come to Hogwarts doors, but to stop all acts of leisure, would seal Voldemort's victory before he had even come close to dealing the final blow if it was to be his.

The house- elves had worked very hard on tonight's decorations, and it showed. One could scarcely imagine any elements of danger in this magnificent setting. The enchanted ceiling reflected the night sky, which looked as if there was to be a very early flurry activity this night. The fluffy white clouds moved over every so often to reveal the full harvest moon. Harry's ceiling, created for him, just like the one he'd had at St Mungos, showed the same beautiful scene, but as he lay quietly in the early evening, warm in his bed, his thought strayed to Professor Lupin and Hagrid, alone tonight while he would be with his friends.

Harry had at least received word on Professor Lupin. He had of course taken his wolfsbane potion to keep him tame and in his own mind. Harry felt like he'd taken his first breath after holding it for some time, upon hearing that Lupin had survived his transformation. There were no remaining bullet fragments in his body when he'd transformed. Professor Flitwick had found that the bullets had been silver, timed release charmed, to activate upon Lupin's transformation into his werewolf form. A more grotesque trophy Harry couldn't imagine, had McNair's deadly sick plan worked. Harry missed Remus greatly, but tonight, the full moon would wax away, and he would return. Harry had another reason to want Lupin to live. Every year at this time, Harry thought more about his parents who had been killed on Halloween. Between this and worrying for Hagrid still, Harry felt like he could just lay here all night warm and alone in his bed.

Harry was given the 'try to live a little' speech by Ron, for what seemed like the tenth time that day, but somehow, Harry almost wished that Madam Pomfrey would declare him unfit to attend the party. He had received good news about Lupin, but didn't know why his mood was so low still.

Ginny popped in wearing a pair of black jeans and a very flattering blue jumper. Her hair was up in a loose pony tail and pinned up in a spray of wisps. Suddenly, Harry found his reason for joining the party.

The gathering was much larger than he'd expected, because he hadn't anticipated the Quidditch team's families. Ginny led him to a table near Fred's bed, holding his hand in reassurance. Harry was amused to see Angelina Johnson chopping up Fred's food for him as he sat in bed in his pyjamas. George just grinned in jealousy. When he'd been injured, it had been summer and he'd been tended by Mrs Weasley. Seeing the joking indignation, Katie Belle put her arm around George and said, "shall I?" and proceeded to imitate Angelina.

Charlie, still in pyjamas and a very handsome house robe emblazoned with a dragon on the back and a crest on the pocket with his initial on it, sat at a table with his parents.

Ron and Hermione seemed to have taken Dumbledore's advice. All of the recent strain was something they needed a break from, and though trying to be social, they couldn't take their eyes off each other. Their parents exchanged knowing looks, remembering when they had been sixteen.

It was different for Harry and Ginny. Harry had no parents there, but he kept shooting nervous glances toward Mr Weasley in particular. It was one thing for Ron to kiss Hermione, but another for him to kiss Ginny in front of him. They had never had any public displays of affection, and now didn't feel like the right time to start.

Harry marvelled to see Dudley arrive, in the company of none other than Lavender Brown, who seemed to have taken on the role of his embassador. For being on the arm of a Muggle, albeit a now athletically framed muscular Muggle, she seemed very proud. Her arm was draped daintily over his large arm, and she still wore the bandage from her wound she'd received the night of the attack. Harry's eyes almost popped out when he saw to his amazement, that Lavender was wearing Dudley's Smelting's school jacket over her shoulders. Dudley looked like he could have inhaled the whole room of oxygen.

The two cousins had not had any dealings together since Dudley had arrived at Hogwarts and Harry felt the urge to order him to leave. This was his world. He had left Dudley's world in misery at the middle of the summer every year, now that misery was here. Dudley, upon seeing Harry's expression also felt like fleeing, and when Ginny extended her hand to shake, Dudley almost looked like he was going to dive for cover, causing everyone to stifle a giggle of amusement. Most of the Gryffindors knew of Dudley from the twins account of the ton tongue toffee, and that was more than Harry wanted any of them to know. Harry had sworn even Ron to secrecy regarding what little he knew about Harry's life at Privet Drive.

When Dudley extended his hand toward Harry, Harry searched for any excuse not to extend his own. Dudley, as discreet as possible, withdrew his hand. He did not seem surprised or angry, just a little disappointed and scared, especially being with Lavender and wanting to impress the girl. Dudley had never had a date in his life.

"Dudley, I need a word in private, please, excuse us Lavender," Harry breathed as politely as he could. Harry led Dudley into his room, and told Tonks to please leave him alone for just a minute with his cousin. Tonks reminded Harry with a distinct look of loathing in her eyes, that she would know if anything was wrong. Dudley shivered as Harry closed the door. Harry would have locked the door, but Tonks had forbidden it.

Ginny knew Harry needed to do this alone, but she wanted to know Harry's past. She knew that Harry would talk when he was ready about his past, but she was supremely mad at Dumbledore for once again, having invited Harry's cousin into his life. That was for Harry to decide, and Ginny could tell, from the few snippets of conversation she'd caught from her older brothers or parents, that the Dursleys had abused Harry all his life. If she'd known the extent of the abuse he'd suffered under their care, there would nothing the twins could think of to rival what she would do to Dudley. Ginny found herself staring at the door to the room they'd just entered almost willing it to open.

"Listen, Dudley, even if you are somehow sincere in all of this, it's too late, and besides, you can't go around with a member of my house on your arm like you're an item or something," Harry told Dudley trying to remain calm.

Dudley waited for Harry to finish politely. "Well I know it's fast, but we're going out,' Dudley beamed.

"What!" Harry spat incredulously. "You've only just gotten here. You've never had a date in your life, and Lavender Brown...well she just doesn't..." he spluttered.

"She really likes me Harry," Dudley beamed stupidly, completely missing Harry's point.

"Look, you can't get serious with her... and Dudley, I'm warning you, don't you dare say one word about my life in Privet. That's private. No one needs to know what Uncle Vernon...you know..." Harry said looking at the floor. He couldn't even say it to someone who had witnessed and in most case provoked, the abuse he'd suffered there.

"I would never tell her...or anyone else the way mom and dad treat you. How would I look then?"

Harry had never considered it from this point, how it must warp a young mind to witness one's parents be so cruel and abusive to another child. Harry had to admit , he had plenty of dirt on Dudley, so if Dudley didn't honour Harry's order to remain quiet about his home life, Harry could pay him back in full and then some. This was his turf. Ginny came in, not being able to take the worry the pairing had caused her, just as Dudley promised not to tell anyone a word about what Harry had endured at the hands of his relatives over the years.

As she only heard, "I promise," she asked sharply, "Promise what?" She did not trust this boy, but like Hermione had told them, being nice to Dudley could make Harry's summer more pleasant if he had to return to Privet.

"Nothing at all," said Dudley smoothly, but still nervous of his now taller cousin.

"Oh come on, you can tell me," Ginny said, taking Harry's arm to lead him back into the party and away from his cousin, who he was still glaring at warningly.

"Leave it...please, okay?" he asked urgently.

Ginny wouldn't understand until she thought about it. She knew that life was hard for Harry in Privet Drive, but she did not know of the abuse Harry had suffered all his life, and if he had it his way, she never would. The embarrassment he felt about having been locked up all those times without meals or his school supplies and wand, was overwhelming. The- boy- who- lived, who had fought Voldemort himself and survived, was abused by his own family, who should have been proud to raise him as a son.

For once, Ginny let it be. Harry needed a night of peace, but she was determined to one day get Harry to open up about the Dursleys and what they had done to him.


	41. Too Late For Sorry

As freezing rain pelted the stained glass windows of the Hospital Wing, a sumptuous feast began. Harry almost smiled in spite of not wanting Dudley there, when he saw him choose only one of the many desserts the feast had to offer. Years before, Dudley would have eaten himself sick at the sight of these numerous selections. He ate daintily in front of Lavender, instead of scarfing it all down in one bite, and Harry also got a grim sort of satisfaction that Dudley definitely wasn't this well fed at his school.

Harry was distracted at first, and Ginny noticed how he kept glancing nervously whenever Dudley would mention the outside world. Harry now realized that he lived in two separate bubbles. In Privet Drive with the Dursley's, he was not allowed to talk about magic, school, or his friends. At school, he never allowed himself to talk about his family, his home, or his lack of friends during the summer months. It was so very tiring.

Many times, Harry had been on the verge of telling Ginny all about his life in Privet Drive. There was something about her that made him feel safe, but her fiery nature would likely result in Dudley sprouting a second head if she truly knew how cruel he had been to Harry all his life. In a way, Harry felt a pang of guilt for never discussing his life outside of Hogwarts with her, but then he'd never expected his Muggle and wizarding worlds to collide like this. After all, he knew some very personal things about her, even more about what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets then she had told her mother. He knew now, that soon he would have to pluck up the courage and answer some questions she'd asked him before he'd hear the answers from Dudley. He'd talk about his past on his own terms when he was ready.

Mr Weasley, who usually tried to be forgiving, hung on Dudley's every word about life as a Muggle while Harry was prepared to hex him under the table if necessary to shut him up if he started on a sore subject from their past. Harry hated to admit that Dudley being impressed with Hogwarts, was fascinating. If Dudley was genuine, he seemed to almost envy Harry now, and Harry found himself liking the turnabout.

Although thoroughly amused by the Canary Creams Fred and George had contributed to the party, Dudley wisely declined any treats offered to him from the twins, or anyone else for that matter. Mrs Weasley had already warned everyone not to interfere with Dudley, unless of course he did anything foul to Harry, in which case she would no doubt turn a blind eye.

Neville cleared his throat after dessert, getting immediate attention, but not knowing how to deal with everyone focussing on him.

"Just do it, Neville," Harry encouraged the befuddled boy, so he did. Neville and Luna proceeded to hand out a wrapped package to everyone on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, who opened them, completely speechless. Mr and Mrs Weasley immediately became suspicious that Harry must have spent a considerable amount of the Black family fortune on these gifts, but when Neville proudly told them that he'd grown the new broom wood and fashioned them into the polished finished product they saw now, huge applause broke out. There was more cheering when Neville told them that Gryffindor had earned fifty house points for outstanding extra credit work. Luna had earned twenty five points for Ravenclaw, for assisting Neville in the greenhouses.

All conversation turned to the topic of the new brooms and Gryffindor's improved chances to win the House Cup this year. Things were going Harry's way now. Dudley was listening politely with nothing to add to the conversation.

The evening was going so smoothly that Harry had to wonder if Dumbledore had ordered everyone not to talk about what had happened with the mind attacks. Usually when Dumbledore made speeches on Harry's behalf, Harry had not really appreciated it, but tonight, he needed to be just Harry...just another student.

Suddenly it occurred to Harry that Fred and George, who were making a small fortune of their own with their shop, hadn't indulged themselves new broomsticks yet. Other then some rather expensive garments of clothing, Harry figured they must have been re investing their profits into the business.

The twins went over every fine detail of their new brooms appreciatively. As if there had ever been any doubt over just how identical these boys were, their new brooms hovered at exactly the same height and position for mounting just like Harry's had after its excursion into the forest.

"Wow Neville, these are real beauties!" George exclaimed.

"Makes me wish I was playing again," Charlie said wistfully.

"You're too old, mate," Bill told him jokingly, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Ha! You too then, old man!" Charlie punched Bill's shoulder affectionately.

"Oh I don't know about that," Mr Weasley said, grasping Fred's broom. "I reckon I still remember enough for a game or two myself," he challenged.

"You haven't beaten us in Quidditch since we were nine years old," Fred reminded his father.

"Just wait til you come home for Christmas holidays. We'll see who hasn't forgotten the fundamentals yet," Mr Weasley told his boys with a challenging smile.

Everyone thanked Neville profusely and began bragging about almost certain victory over Slytherin on Sunday. Harry was enjoying listening to the happy banter the brooms had caused. He usually took his many medicines in private as some of them were pretty nasty, but when Madam Pomfrey handed him the vials, he drank them down, washing away the foul taste with his Butterbeer and continued listening to the happy conversation. Dudley looked at him in sympathy and Harry stiffened seeing him stand up to come over.

"Still feeling pretty rough, eh Harry?" Harry would never admit, that without the potions, he would have no energy at all, and would still be in considerable pain, especially given the most recent attack on his body and mind.

"Yeah well, you know nurses," Harry replied evasively, using the term 'nurse,' so Dudley could relate.

"Yeah," Dudley admitted. "When I first joined the wrestling team, I got beaten up pretty badly. I was in the Smelting's Infirmary for a week. I had to beg the school nurse not to tell mum...she'd make me quit and come home."

Harry couldn't help but think he'd have enjoyed seeing the match that landed Dudley in the infirmary for a week.

"You know mum..." Dudley said, rolling his eyes, but Harry honestly couldn't say that he did know Aunt Petunia in the caring capacity, for she had never lifted a finger to defend him, and Harry found himself storing Dudley's revelation that Aunt Petunia didn't know about, to be used later if needed, should Dudley ever speak of the abuse Harry suffered at the Dursleys in front of his friends.

Now it was Dudley's turn to ask for a moment alone with Harry when he saw the look on his face when he'd mentioned Aunt Petunia. Harry told Ginny that he would return shortly and once again, the two boys entered Harry's room. At first, Dudley made small talk.

Ginny willed herself not to insist that she was coming with them. If there were fences that could be mended, she wanted that for Harry, but she resented the wall that Dudley and his parents had built around Harry and wondered if she would ever manage to break through it and free him of his past. She'd seen his nightmares. She'd had nightmares of her own, but her nightmares were ones that Harry could relate to because he'd been there with her...in the Chamber. Harry had been all alone in his torments.

"So, ah, where do you normally sleep? You know, while you're not here?" Dudley asked. Harry saw no harm in answering the question. He explained that he was in Gryffindor House, and as such, slept in Gryffindor Tower.

"Cool bed," Dudley commented, looking impressed at Harry's lavish four poster with the hangings.

"Yeah, it's mine, from my usual dorm room. Professor Dumbledore had it brought down for me.

"That's really nice. I can see why it's such a wrench for you to come back every summer. Honestly, I'm only staying there myself until I'm finished school."

Harry could not think why Dudley would leave the ultimate comfort and pampering he got at home. "Why's that?" he asked, detecting a lie.

"Eye openers, Harry. Lots of them. Most I've told you about, some I haven't." Then Dudley dropped a bombshell.

"I met Ron's brother, Percy."

"What!" Harry spat his Butterbeer out and cleaned it up with his wand absent mindedly, waiting for an answer.

"He was the one who told me how bad off you were. I think he came to Little Whinging to get me back for all the tormenting I've done to you all these years..."

"Well...you seem fine to me, so he must have done a poor job of it," Harry muttered. "Besides, Percy Weasley hates me. And Dud, don't talk about him to Ginny, Ron or any of the other Weasleys. They're a really close family...you wouldn't understand that," he warned him coldly, finally figuring out Dudley's angle in having the nerve to come to Family Week. "I won't let you hurt the Weasleys Dudley."

Dudley looked sad and offended, but couldn't blame Harry for being mistrustful of his intentions. "Percy didn't want me to tell you about his visit," he informed him.

"Then why are you?" Harry demanded.

"Because he's messed up, Harry. When it came up that you were alive, the guy looked reborn. He was pretty much living as a street person when I first met him, and I gave him some food, not even knowing who he was. I'm working now, see?" Dudley said proudly.

"Where?" Harry asked trying to comprehend this very strange story.

"Little Whinging Bakers," Dudley smiled and held up his hand saying, "I know...I know... But Harry why didn't you tell Percy that you were alive. He was really down."

"Because I couldn't. He's the one that nearly finished me off!" Harry shouted, trying to make Dudley understand. "Percy Weasley almost killed me for real!"

"I thought the Weasleys like you Harry," Dudley said, confused.

"Black sheep," Harry muttered. When Harry found out that Dudley had told Percy that Harry was still alive, before the rest of the wizarding world had even found out, he wondered if Percy had ran straight to the Ministry to inform them. Apparently not, Harry realized, doing the math in his head of dates when everyone had been informed, and he was surprised, but still suspicious.

While Harry tried to piece all of this shocking information together in his head, Dudley still had no idea why this had such significance, so he went on talking.

"I asked Percy why, as a wizard and all, he didn't just nik food and stuff for himself, but he told me he wouldn't hurt his parents anymore then he already had, so, I got him a job at the bakery. He's dreadful, but...when no one's looking..." Dudley gestured a wand flick. "He fixes everything he's messed up."

"If only it were that easy," Harry sounded, very annoyed. "He's caused a lot of trouble for everyone.

"He says he wants to go home, but can't. He wouldn't tell me why." Dudley looked at Harry for an answer. He wasn't going to get one. Harry didn't know if he was protecting himself or the Weasleys for sure, but he didn't want this to come out tonight. Harry felt like he was the reason why all of this had happened, but a small selfish part of him, hoped that Percy would not come back for a long time, and that is when he remembered Mrs Weasley's sad musings about whether or not the whole family would ever sit around the table again at the Burrow.

"Okay, Dudley," Harry sighed tiredly, taking his glasses of to rub his eyes. "Don't tell anyone about this, especially the Weasley's. You haven't told Lavender yet, have you?" he asked panicked.

'No," Dudley replied emphatically. "That's why I wanted to ask you about it first. Percy didn't want me to tell anyone either."

This made it easier for Harry to keep the secret. It was after all, Percy's secret too. Some of his earlier guilt melted away with this thought, even though he knew he would eventually have to tell the Weasleys about their son's whereabouts.

"Good...don't...please," Harry implored. "Let them enjoy this night. Trust me Dudley, you wouldn't understand."

"Harry?" Dudley said tentatively. "War's the same no matter what, wizard or Muggle. ...people die, people fight. I want you to believe I'm not the enemy, Harry, in case...you know..."

"Listen, Dudley, I'm trying not to be cruel here. You can stay for Family Week if you want, but you and I...we're not family...It's just too late for that." Harry said this, but swallowed a lump at the same time. The last thing he needed now in this war, was someone else to care about, and half of him wanted Percy to move on as well and leave him alone.

"So, you aren't going to tell them...about their son I mean?" Dudley asked, looking like he'd just been punched in the gut, and the look on his face made Harry ashamed to feel some satisfaction from having hurt him for a change.

"No, he hurts them. Some people feel the responsibility to protect the ones they love from hurt," Harry explained to Dudley like he wouldn't understand the concept. Dudley somehow caught Harry's implication that all these years, he had stood by and done nothing to save Harry from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and had even seemed to enjoy Harry's punishments, which were doled out generously and often, sometimes at Dudley's urging and for his entertainment it seemed. Harry would never have voiced this on purpose, but it had come out none-the-less.

"I can't do anything about the past but apologise now, take it or leave it, but I will be there for you in the future I swear Harry. If dad lays one finger on you ever again..." Dudley said, emotion rising in his voice that Harry didn't want to hear.

"If he does Dudley, I will hurt him." Harry finished Dudley's sentence for him. "I mean it, Dudley, things will be different from now on if I have to come back there. I'm coming back on my own conditions." Harry had never hit a girl, nor did he ever want to, but Petunia would not be hitting him anymore either.

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Dudley swore. "And there's one thing you've got to consider Harry. I'm also a blood relation to your mother...your mother's nephew by blood...so... I know now why you've had to stay there all these years. Maybe I'll do now that we're older, and I could stay here with you instead in the summer."

Harry could barely digest this information. Although watered down with Dursley influence, Dudley was right. He was Harry's blood relative on his mother's side too. What this could mean in potential assets, remained to be seen, but the two made an agreement to speak to Dumbledore about it before summer moved closer.

"This doesn't change anything, Dudley," Harry said, thinking that Dudley looked annoyingly hopeful. Meanwhile, before rejoining the party, they had to agree to disagree about Percy and whether or not to tell the Weasleys until they discussed that matter with Dumbledore too.

When Harry's potions had taken effect completely, he felt almost back to his normal self. He knew it wasn't really true, but the temporary reprieve from the pain and exhaustion, revived him a little more with each dose. When Bill had informed everyone that the grounds had been heavily secured and were crawling with Aurors, Madam Pomfrey grudgingly gave her permission for Harry, Fred and Charlie to accompany the Quidditch players down to the pitch to try out their new brooms. Although the three patients would only be spectators this evening, the delight in the simple pleasure of being allowed outside again, was going to have to be enough.

Mrs Weasley fussed with Fred and Charlie's cloaks to make sure they wouldn't catch a chill. She smiled over at Ginny who was doing the same with Harry. The Strengthening Potion which Harry was being given in large doses since the last attack, allowed him to walk out into the grounds under his own steam for the most part. Fred and Charlie were floated out on large comfortable chairs like the one Harry had used.

Trust Fred to call out imperiously like a king on a throne, "Angelina! Peel me a grape!" Angelina, for her part, conjured a grape and threw it at Fred, hitting him squarely on the nose. He was more polite after that.

Harry felt a twinge of jealousy and irritation as everyone took off on their brooms in the exhilarating rush. Not only was he not allowed to participate, but seeing Dudley's purely fascinated and impressed reaction to flight on brooms, made Harry wish that he could be up there, proving that he had talent, that he wasn't useless and hopeless at everything like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had instilled in him since he'd been one year old. Then he got mad at himself for feeling like he had to prove anything to Dudley.

"You like her, don't you?" Dudley asked, following Harry's gaze up toward Ginny.

Harry felt a twinge of loathing at that point. Dudley was still the enemy as far as he was concerned and it was none of his business who he liked. To hear someone like Dudley say it out loud, also brought it closer to him that most people he liked...or loved, died. Harry didn't answer him and Dudley didn't ask again. He had no right to try to join Harry's life now and he knew it.

Arthur Weasley looked longingly at the zooming spectacle above him until Fred said, "Oh bother, just go on, have a ride, as mom says I can't have a go on it."

Mr Weasley didn't need coaxing as Fred thrust his broom into his hands and Mrs Weasley called after him, "Mind your bad back Arthur!"She wiggled her index finger at him, though Hermione could have sworn she'd seen Mrs Weasley smile as Arthur took off from the ground. It wasn't long before a impromptu game of Quidditch ensued.

Neville and Luna soon joined, leaving only a handful of people below. Somehow, in a large crowd, Harry had felt safe. Now, with almost everyone up there, he found himself looking around nervously more often. He knew looking around wouldn't necessarily help anymore as Voldemort was now attacking from a new position, it seemed. His scar didn't so much as twinge and as he caught Ginny smile at him, he forgot about everything else for awhile.

Fewer people in the stands meant that there would now be forced conversation thrust at him from Dudley and Lavender. Harry wondered where on earth Dudley got his nerve. He was sitting there next to Lavender Brown saying things Harry only wished he had the nerve to tell Ginny, and he'd only been here for days! Still, the Quidditch was far more interesting.

It suddenly dawned on Hermione as she looked at Harry watching the game, that he didn't look very excited about the flying. His face had suddenly become rather sad, as though he had begun thinking heavily of his troubles. As she watched his face, she saw him smile a few times, despite the obvious pain in his eyes. The smiles always coincided with when Ginny zoomed around their end of the pitch and smiled at him. As Hermione studied Harry's face, she reached out to touch his shoulder, sending him into an involuntary jump of fright, so deep had his thoughts been.

Everyone felt that Harry must just be nervous about being out in the very same grounds where the war had finally broken the last safe haven he'd always had. While not inaccurate, this was only part of the problem. Ever since Harry had met the Weasleys, he had noticed that Mr Weasley was usually off working a great deal of the time, but when he was home, he was really there for his family.

Hearing shouts of, "Dad! Over here!" bellow across the pitch happily, caused Harry a pang of all encompassing sadness from a source he hadn't dwelt on much before this night. His own father had been a Gryffindor Seeker. Harry felt certain that his own father would have done something like this, and he would be up there right now with him, his mother beside Mrs Weasley, getting after them for being careless, and probably sharing knowing smiles about the way he and Ginny looked at each other.

The scene played so vividly in Harry's head he could almost believe it, or perhaps, he fancied, mum would want to play too, which would suit Harry just fine.

Dumbledore, who was watching the broom trials, put a hand on Harry's shoulder and spoke. "Poppy, I believe our young Mr Potter should be allowed a short ride with his team mates. After all, he is showing marked improvement..." Harry's jaw dropped, but as the Headmaster usually deferred judgement to the Healer, Harry knew the suggestion would be rejected.

"But Albus, surely not!" Pomfrey stammered.

"Mr Potter will promise not to do anything fool hearty, and I myself will spell the bludgers to transform into harmless foam."

Madam Pomfrey clearly did not agree, but feeling Harry's hopeful stare bore into her resolve to be strict, she relented, telling herself that his mental health may improve from some activity and he may sleep better. Mrs Weasley and the Matron gave him strict orders and fussed over his clothing.

"I believe you already know how to summon your broom?" Dumbledore asked kindly. Remembering the shattered stained glass windows from his last attempt, Harry was reluctant to try until he was assured that by doing so, he wouldn't damage any more parts of the castle.

The broom flew obediently into his outstretched hands, and though Harry had snuck one small, very short game of catch this season, there was just nothing like Quidditch in all the world to help him forget the wretched experiences he'd been through, if only just for a short time.

Harry smiled with pride as Mrs Weasley placed her hands over her eyes every time a bludger was directed at him, forgetting for a moment that they were foam. Harry liked the concern. He'd never known it. His greatest moment of pride was when he dodged a bludger spectacularly and Mrs Weasley had stood up shouting, "well done, son!" He had looked around to see if Bill, Charlie, George, or Ron had done anything grand, to find that Mrs Weasley had meant him. The word 'son,' seemed to echo in his ears as he zoomed around the pitch, having been made Seeker automatically. Harry knew he'd be sore tomorrow, but it was so worth it.

Harry spotted the Golden Snitch not far from where Ginny, the opposing Seeker was hovering and she saw it at exactly the same moment. She smiled at him mischievously and stuck her tongue out at him, leaving him somewhat dumfounded and giddy. He'd never failed to go after the snitch immediately in his whole life and it took some shouting from his put out team mates to force him to take his eyes off of her and go after it. He had to stop himself from admiring the long red hair streaking out behind her in the magically lit pitch as she dove for the golden fluttering ball, and then the part of him that was James' snapped him out of it and he went after the snitch with everything he had.

His still superior broom passed hers in an instant and he felt his fingers close around the tiny snitch. He felt bad for a moment, having caught the snitch before Ginny, but he was very pleased to say the least when she flew up to him and gave him their biggest public kiss ever. Mr Weasley had the good sense to look away, while the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione from the ground, cheered loudly. When Ginny finally released him, he could still feel the heat in his cheeks, though it was very cold out. As Ginny flew back to the ground, Harry stared after her dreamily until he felt something soft hit him in the shoulder.

"Back to earth Potter!" George shouted, teasing him incessantly all the way back down as he blushed severely.

"You still got it kid!" Fred congratulated, once Harry was back on the ground. "Now we just have to work on Madam Pomfrey to let you play for real."

Harry looked over doubtfully at the approaching Matron. "Nah, I think she wants to wrap me in bubble wrap!"

"Alright, Mr Potter, Fred , Charlie, all of you, back to the school! Quidditch at the first signs of returning health..." Madame Pomfrey shook her head, but still couldn't help looking immensely pleased at the outcome of the match. Hermione had lost her apprehension for Harry's safety when she saw how utterly exhilarated he was up there, like he belonged in the sky.

Harry seemed a new person as he sipped his hot chocolate that evening as the party was breaking off. He was not the jealous or envious sort, but he did enjoy the fact that his Firebolt still outstripped the new ones. It had felt good to be up there with Mr Weasley calling out directions to him as though he needed them. Of course he didn't, but it felt good all the same, like something he'd missed out on all these years. If it couldn't be his own dad, or Sirius, this had felt as right as it could have been.

Dudley appeared to have seen Harry in a whole new light, and Harry felt a different kind of pride swell in him as his cousin congratulated him heartily over and over again for his brilliant performance. But suddenly, Harry felt a dislike for Dudley that had nothing to do with he and Harry's past. Staring at Dudley, Harry was reminded of another boy, slightly plump and over enthusiastic about a snitch catch...Peter Pettigrew, whom he had seen in the Pensieve oohing a ahhing every time James Potter would catch a snitch in his hand.

Harry's eyes pierced Dudley's as he remembered that and all the times he'd had to listen to his aunt and uncle rave about how wonderful and remarkable Dudley was at everything, which of course wasn't true in the slightest. Harry, on the other hand had been told that he'd been rubbish at everything, even when his teachers from his Muggle school would send home a glowing report on something he'd accomplished. It felt to Harry as if Dudley was truly meeting him for the first time in his life, but Harry still felt a cold detachment to his cousin.

"Can a...M...Muggle, that's right isn't it... fly a broom? Dudley asked eagerly.

"No," Harry said emphatically.

"Unless it was magically spelled to fly for a Muggle," Hermione pointed out as Harry shot her a look of deep disgust.

"Or a Muggle could ride on the back of someone's broom," Ginny suggested unhelpfully as Harry fixed her with the same glare Hermione had gotten a moment ago. They didn't understand, and he knew he was partly to blame for this. He'd never told them just how horrible Dudley really was, because he knew how weak it would make him look, and he also knew, that no matter nice these girls were to him, Dudley would never treat him right at home.

"It'd be great to try that sometime," Dudley said with subdued enthusiasm as Harry cherished this moment, this one fleeting moment out of his sixteen year old life, that he had something Dudley didn't. As Harry savoured this moment, his reverence was ruined by a drawling voice that punctured his momentary gloating.

"That fat oaf couldn't fly on someone's broom with them," Draco Malfoy hissed as he slithered into the Hospital Wing.

"Mr Malfoy, that will be all. Return yourself to Professor Snape with my thanks for this," Madam Pomfrey scolded as she took a tray of vials from the young Slytherin, who apparently, was still serving detention during Family Week. In light of the attacks and less than friendly glares from some of the other guests, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother, had left Family Week early to return to Malfoy Manor.

Cho Chang's parents had also left early, as they could easily feel the blame floating around after the recent attacks, in light of the initial attack on Harry that their daughter was still pending appeal for. Cho had therefore been placed under a more strict regime, but was not wholly segregated from the rest of the school.

That was it. Malfoy had stolen Harry's thunder. He wanted to be one to deny Dudley's earnest request for a broom ride, to watch him deal with being told 'no' for once. Harry had never seen this before now.

"Okay...well then..." Dudley mumbled looking ashamed. At least Harry could enjoy Dudley's discomfort in having been called fat in front of Lavender. Dudley was dealing with the big boys now, not just a defenceless child from his Muggle neighbourhood, or a cousin that was restricted to the Underage Magic Act.

Ron was pleased that Harry wasn't going soft on his cousin, and though Hermione hoped for Harry's sake that Dudley was being sincere, she could not blame Ron for his mistrust. They had all heard Harry tell Dudley that a lifetime of hell could not be repaid in one day. They wished he would tell them of his past. They saw he was tormented by the memories.

As the Gryffindor Quidditch team left, thanking Neville again for their new brooms, Angelina remarked, "If Oliver Wood finds out about Gryffindor's new brooms, he'll try to re enrol!"

"Best we don't tell him then. Between the joke shop, and training on his pro team, he'll go mental wondering why oh why it couldn't have been during his time here that this all happened with the brooms," Fred laughed, thinking of Oliver's severely competitive nature.

Mr Weasley also said a heartfelt thanks to Neville. Four new Firebolts in his family, was something he could never afford for his children. Harry saw the same pride he'd felt on the pitch, creep up onto Neville's features. Harry could tell that Neville had rarely been praised before. Gran had never been outwardly mean to him, but to earn her praise, one would have to be outstanding, and now, Neville was.

Neville and Luna were the last of the extended party to leave. Gran had tears in her eyes as Dumbledore informed her that Neville had earned an award for special services to the school for donating his inventions to a house team and for his continuing research into the replicating plant and it's possible uses in other areas of security and common needs.

Harry gave Neville a pat on the back, which seemed to mean more to him than all the other praise combined. "Nice job Neville. Gryffindor's a shoe in for the House Cup."...The House Cup...did things like that even matter anymore now that the war had started raging in full?" 'Yes,' Harry decided, it did, a lot. People needed to know that some things still remained the same, that it was still okay to smile and have fun.

"I want a rematch soon, Harry," Ginny challenged. "Seriously though, you did really well today. Get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning." She yawned and Harry even found that adorable. She laughed at him when he returned the yawn involuntarily. They hugged tightly and she stood on her tip toes to give him a light kiss before slipping out of his embrace, leaving him standing there until she disappeared completely from view.

"Go to bed, Harry," her giggling voice carried from the corner and he finally turned around to go into he and Ron's room.

"Hey Ron," Harry called out in the dark to his already half asleep friend. "Do you reckon Ginny just let me catch the snitch to make me feel good?"

"What?" Ron asked groggily.

"The snitch. Do you think Ginny let me catch it because of...everything?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"Harry," Ron sighed in exasperation, "if there's one thing you should have learned by now about my little sister, it's that she's competitive, and she would push you twice as hard as Madam Pomfrey would even allow to make you fight your way back to how you're supposed to be. Ginny wouldn't throw even a recreational game for you, because she'd know you'd see right through that, mate."

'Oh...' was all Harry could manage in reply. "In that case, you can go back to sleep now."

"Thanks," Ron mumbled.

Harry fell asleep thinking of Ginny, glad that she hadn't just let him win, but more glad for the victory kiss he'd gotten from her after the match, and her hug and even her yawn before bed. But most of all, he was glad for the fact that she treated him like he was whole, body and mind.


	42. Wounds Heal and Birds Love Scars

A/N I just want to thank everyone who has been reviewing for me! You guys are the best and you make this so much fun! BarbaraPotter...I can't find you under search to read your story. Can you email the names of them or let me know in the review? I'd love to read them! The only thing I found was Harry4Ever2... is that you?

I know we're not allowed to specify thanks to individuals on this site, but I wish we could because there's a few of you who really make my day on a regular basis. Please know you are appreciated! Now...on with the show!

Harry found out all too well, that he'd over exerted himself in the recreational Quidditch match and it was something he could not hide from the Matron. However she did not give him a hard time over it. She simply handed him a few extra potions to take and didn't make a fuss.

"Thank you Madam Pomfrey," Harry said quietly.

"You are most welcome, Harry," She softened at his words.

"I really did have a great time out there you know? I thought I may never play again..."

"Nonsense, you will be as good as new before you know it," she said kindly, but in her heart she worried that she was patching him up here and there just so Voldemort could have another go at him.

Harry didn't care that care everyone noticed that he had to rely a little more on his cane today than before. For once, it had been worth it. Tyler informed Harry that Professor Lupin was back and had asked for him. Tyler was excited for another reason. Professor Snape had allowed him to examine Lupin when he'd come to bring him his new strengthening potions today.

"I think Professor Snape was trying me out, to tell you the truth," Tyler said happily."Anyway, when I connected with Professor Lupin, it wasn't like any other animal I'd ever connected with...or you, Harry. It was scary. I couldn't totally connect. It was like one of the dogs I'd tried to heal, but couldn't because mom found out it had rabies. We had to put it out of it's misery. I sat with it while it...died, and Harry, just before it passed, and I know this sounds mad, I saw it run away with a pack of dogs, leaving it's body behind."

"I almost felt like Professor Lupin was going to die when I got a brief connection and lost it, and I felt so bad. I was almost waiting for him to run away like the dog. He opened his eyes and asked who I was and where he was, and then he got really scared and asked about you." Tyler was troubled and confused by his feelings about Lupin, but Harry had to see Lupin now. Snape had told the boy nothing.

"Where is he, Tyler?" Harry asked, relieved and anxious at the same time. Tyler led him to a cubicle.

"Remus!" Harry cried, hugging the man fiercely. "I was afraid to ask. You're alive!" he said blinking away tears before they could become large enough to fall from his eyes and be seen.

"Professor Snape and Madam Pomfry were able to retrieve all of the timed release silver bullets and Professor Flitwick figured out how much time they had to work with before the charmed bullet casings would dissolve and start disbursing the silver into my bloodstream. It seems they wanted me to die as a werewolf..." Lupin reflected with a shudder. "McNair it seems, had a terrible agenda in making sure that I would die once transformed so he could display his prize."

Tyler did not understand Lupin's conversation with Harry and he backed away in alarm as Lupin quite candidly told him that he was a werewolf, something Tyler had only seen in the movies.

"It's okay, Tyler, there's a treatment for it now," Harry said. Tyler was now scared and fascinated, but in the end, the fascination won out.

"Is it ...painful to...you know?"

"Yes," Lupin answered grimly. Lupin had vague recollections of Tyler's face, for the boy had tried to call him back to himself. Tyler had seen glimpses of Lupin's thoughts during his transformation back into human form and mistaken it for death. When he had seen the vision of Lupin going back to his 'pack' like the dying dog had done, it must have been Lupin returning back to his human form and feeling like he was dying with the pain, the evil werewolf part of him, running to hide wherever it did until a new moon would come.

Tyler politely asked Professor Lupin if he could talk to him sometime about his condition, and Remus agreed with a small mischievous smile. Mostly, no one in the wizarding world even wanted to acknowledge his condition. Tyler left Harry and Remus alone, promising to come back at a more convenient time. Lupin watched Tyler close the door, knowing that his presence at Hogwarts was still debated among parents and wondering why the young man who had just left, knowing so little about the wizarding world, seemed less scared of him than most of the students who had known about lycanthropy all of their lives.

Harry knew what a sacrifice Lupin had made to come back here to teach. Harry hoped that Remus would consider he and Ginny, Ron and Hermione friends. Being alone when ill wasn't pleasant.

One thing Harry appreciated about Remus was that he'd never mistaken him for his father like Sirius had sometimes seemed to. Sure, Remus had stared into his eyes and ruffled his dark hair in affection, no doubt remembering his friends James or Lily, but he had always seen Harry as an individual.

Harry swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat in thinking about Sirius and he had not held the fact that Sirius had often thought of him as James. The twelve years Sirius had spent in Azkaban had been long ones, but the outside world had passed by in the blink of an eye and to step out in the light of day to see the child that looked so much like the man he had sworn to protect, seemed to have caused a small time warp in the poor man's mind. It had been unnerving at times to know that despite the hurt and torment Sirius had been put through in Azkaban, he still stood ready to finish the job he had started all those years ago in seeing Harry through his fight safely, and he'd died in the attempt. And here, the last Marauder sat propped up, ready to do the same, undeterred by the grizzly attempt on his life, or by the fact that his last old friend had been killed only months ago.

The two of them spent the rest of the visit talking about Lupin's memories of his father's and the other Marauder's exploits during their Hogwart's days.

Harry learned that his mother, Lily had often tried to find dates for Lupin on special occasions like dances, but to no avail. Remus was always considered strange, missed a lot of school, and was rather sickly looking. James, who was usually the jealous type when it came to Lily, appreciated how she treated his friend kindly, even after finding out that he was a werewolf. Of the four Marauders, only James had been lucky in love. All of poor Sirius's young life had been wasted in prison and had taken away all but the last trace of his good looks. Pettigrew's only love was for the Dark Side...and than there was him, and who could love a werewolf?

"I hear that Dumbledore's still going through with holding the Muggle seventies dance. Good for him," Remus rasped, looking at Harry suddenly very earnest. "You're only young once, Harry, make us proud."

"I don't understand," Harry said.

"Have some fun, Harry. Don't let life pass you by, so worried about the future that you forget to live. Security will be extreme, and while your and your friend's security will be the main priority, so is living. Mr's Moony, Padofoot, Prongs and ... well you know, insist on it," Remus winked. "I'll be chaperoning that night."

"But Professor, that's only four days from now. Madam Pomfrey'll never let you out of here so soon," Harry informed Lupin with the utmost certainty.

"I'll be right as rain by then...promise. Word has it that the new Order members disguised as students will also be attending the dance. Moody's been training them for months," Remus smiled.

"You know what?" Harry said smiling, remembering something he'd not mentioned to Remus yet. "I heard some students here actually say that Mad Eye Moody has helped them choose a career path, but most of them still think he's kinda weird, always telling them to keep their wands out of their back pockets. And he has a habit of calling out to students in the halls, 'you'll miss those cheeks when they're blown off!' He told me the same thing when Tonks asked him if he'd ever met anyone who'd actually lost a cheek like that. He was at a loss. Paranoia maybe," Harry remembered.

"Moody remains one of the finest Aurors we ever had," Lupin remembered, clearly feeling sad about how Moody's reputation in the wizarding community had taken a hard blow due to his unprecedented paranoia about almost everything since he'd lost body parts working as an Auror over the years. "Maybe he really could teach here when he retires from the Order, if he survives, as earnest as he is."

There was a knock at the door, which in itself, was remarkable, as Lupin was in curtained cubicle. Mrs Weasley had magiced the knocking sound so as not to intrude on the reunion.

'Harry dear, you didn't eat anything this morning. Madam Pomfrey will put you on bed rest if you don't start to regain the weight that you've lost."

"Yes, Harry. I have to agree with Molly, you are still peaked. You are eating enough and resting when you can?" Lupin asked, concern on his haggard face.

"Yeah... but that's a little like calling the kettle black," Harry responded, sounding a little too defensive. He was doing the best he could. He rested when the nightmares allowed and as far as an appetite went, he wasn't getting enough exercise to make him feel hungry.

"Harry has a point," Molly told Remus. "And as you will be a patient here for at least a few more days, we can make you eat properly too." Molly looked happy at the prospect of getting a good meal into Remus as well. The two of them ate together to avoid further fussing.

Harry was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing in the company of his friends, so he made his way to the library in search of Ginny with Ron, Hermione, Fred and George. He begged them for some time alone with Ginny when he saw her hunched over a huge pile of books, studying intently. His friends relented, going so far as to go behind some bookshelves across the room. He was so tired of being followed around for his own safety, that he wished for his Invisibility Cloak, which Dumbledore had wisely stored away for safe keeping, lest Harry decide to run away in order to draw Voldemort away from the school. The thought had never been far from his mind, but he had promised, and his word meant something to him.

"Ginny, you don't have to study that now. As far as I understand it, there was no homework for this week," Harry told her gently.

"Well, you know, with Quidditch, O.W.L.S. and..."

"Me?" Harry finished her sentence, feeling guilty for having occupied so much of her time lately, thought he had not intended her to abandon her work.

"No...well, yes, but no regrets," she assured him with a quick smile, but Harry had regrets. He wondered not for the first time, if he should back away from Ginny and give her time to study and be a normal teenager, not a guardian for him. Somehow, the petite redhead always knew what he was thinking. "Don't even try to back out of our date!" she warned sternly, pointing her finger at him. "I just need to get back on track," she assured him again.

"Well...I'll leave you to it then," Harry said, feeling a little better, but still with the pesky little voice in his head.

"Actually, I was just about finished for today, so don't feel too sorry for me. Hagrid's been in here every morning, studying for his exams."

'Oh..." Harry said emptily, wondering where his giant friend was at this moment. "I'd forgotten that Hagrid was studying for his belated O.W.L.S."

"O.W.L.S? Didn't Hagrid tell you that he's sitting his N.E.W.T.S. the week after next?"

"No," Harry replied awkwardly. Apparently there were a lot of things Hagrid hadn't told Harry lately. He'd gotten used to being kept in the dark by Dumbledore and the others, but not Hagrid.

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Ginny said nervously, hoping she hadn't made Harry feel bad.

"Yeah," said Harry dryly. "Just like everybody else."

"Come on, let's go get something to eat," Ginny suggested.

"Great idea!" said Ron, stepping enthusiastically out from behind a pillar and causing Ginny , who had assumed that she and Harry were alone, to jump.

Hermione still fretted about the house- elves probably having to do double and triple shifts to keep up with the meals, which had been made casual for the most part since the attacks, instead of large gatherings at once.

After lunch, the friends explored the castle for the first time since it had been laid out so beautifully for Family Week. They were awestruck upon seeing the giant swimming pool with coloured foam hot tubs and seven massive water slides with different speed settings. Against the far wall, Professor Flitwick had outdone himself. A levitating fountain floated riders back up to the top of the water slide of their choice.

"You know, you children have been cooped up for months now. Perhaps you would like to try Water Land now?" Dumbledore had come up behind them as they were watching Luna Lovegood float up to a waterslide and disappear inside.

"Wow, Professor, why can't any of this stay when Family Week's over?" Fred asked.

"I do not think Firenze and Professor McGonagall would give up their classrooms for any longer, do you?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinking again for the first time all week. It did him good to see these particular students have a little fun for a change.

"There's no way Madam Pomfrey's going to let Harry swim," Hermione said.

"Ah, yes I thought of that. I think you will find swimming attire in the changing rooms without going back to the Hospital Wing. I believe Madam Pomfrey told you to rest in moderation?" Dumbledore turned to Harry. "And you too Mr Weasley?" he said, looking at Fred.

"Yes," they both answered.

"Very well. Swimming is excellent for rehabilitation, and you can nap when you're older," he winked. "Do be extra cautious, Mr Potter. I shall inform Poppy that you are quite safe and engaging in light exercise. Have fun!" And with that, he bade them goodbye.

Ginny and Hermione went to the girl's change room. Hermione was especially surprised at the length Professor Flitwick had gone to, to ensure comfort. There were the softest terry cloth robes to put on over swim suits, and Ron looked on in dismay when Hermione came out wearing one over her swimsuit. She also had a very unbecoming bathing cap on, causing Ron to do a double take to see if it was really her or her mother.

"Ah, Hermione, why are you wearing that thing on your head?" he asked, revolted by the way it pinched her forehead together.

"Oh, well, you know chlorine's bad for your hair. I always get frizzy from it," she explained in her oh so Hermione way.

"Hermione, this isn't a Muggle pool. It doesn't need chlorine. It's self cleaning," he informed her, suddenly very glad that Hermione had been wearing this ridiculous thing on her head, because when she took it off and shook out her long golden brown hair, he thought he'd have to dive into the pool at the same time she took the robe off.

Harry was the only male who'd bothered to put on one of the robes. He didn't feel much like swimming. Even Ron, who'd always been on the thin side, despite his huge appetite, was bigger than him, and then there was the scars. Sure, Snape's ointment had lessened their severity, but in bathing trunks and his whole torso exposed, a thin white line still stood out on his chest and back, and most of the injuries inflicted through mind control by Voldemort, were still very evident. The lash marks criss crossed across his shoulders.

Ginny emerged from the change room with an aqua one piece, which Harry found stunning. She dove in right beside where he sat with his feet in the water, robe still firmly tied around his waist. Harry thought she looked just like the Muggle depiction of a mermaid that he had seen in an animated movie at Mrs Figg's near to his ninth birthday. Now Harry realized that Mrs Figg must have rented that in secret for him as a birthday gift of sorts. He sat mesmerised, watching her hair streak behind her under the water.

"Come on Harry," she called, playfully splashing him. Fred and George did cannon balls on either side of him, drenching him.

"Er...I don't think I should. A little cold for me," Harry lied. Truth was, he had another problem. He was sitting near the deep end, and though he'd swam under the influence of gillyweed in his fourth year, he couldn't swim very well at all on his own.

"It's like bath water Harry," Hermione called to him, but seeing his face, she remembered how sensitive Harry had been in front of her with his scars. She felt very sorry for his predicament. "Hey, Ginny, could you help me with the tie at the back of my suit here? I think it's come undone," she called to her. When Ron swam enthusiastically over instead, she shooed him away, telling him to go talk to Harry.

"Come on, mate. The water's beautiful, do you a world of good," he coaxed.

"I don't want to. Maybe another time. I think I'll go change," Harry said quickly.

"No you don't. What's up?" Then Ron knew. "Harry, Ginny doesn't care about scars and stuff. Besides, you can't even see 'em anymore. The one on your melon's more noticeable than those," he told Harry bluntly. If Hermione had heard Ron's tactics, he'd have been in trouble. She would have tried psychology on Harry, but Ron's way was better, direct and truthful. Harry smiled sideways at his friend.

"I don't have a melon head," he said in mock indignation. Somehow, Ron had won out. Sooner or later, he'd have to learn to accept his injuries.

Somehow, the twins humour always made him feel better too. They started the moment he disrobed.

"Whoa! Turn off the lights! We don't need any, you're so white. You need to get some sun...or fake tan...see us later, Harry," George said conspiratorially with a wink to Fred. "We'll fix you up." It was true, Harry hadn't gotten any sun over the summer or fall. He was astonished to find he was whiter than the red headed Weasleys. Unable to dive, Harry found a shallow area and slipped in before Ginny could see him like this.

Actually, despite his grave respect for the water, it felt wonderful. The ever present dull ache in his back disappeared and his legs felt as strong as they had ever been with his weight supported by the water. Making sure his feet could still touch the bottom, Harry swam under, enjoying the absolute silence of the water. He sighed with content, a vague memory coming to him... 'the dragon egg!' the perfect silence and warmth, that was what this felt like. He could move his body in ways that his injuries had not allowed him for months. He felt free.

"I told you you'd like it!" Ginny smiled. For once in all the years she had known him, his hair stayed down from the water on it.

"It's nice," he had to agree, seeing Ron glide around with Hermione over his shoulders. They were laughing and having fun. The twins had tried every water slide and were already chatting it up with bikini clad Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell.

"Those two," Ginny giggled, shaking her head. "You know Harry, Hermione's been saying all along that a hot tub would probably do your back and your legs good. Want to try?" Harry knew that this would necessitate getting out of the pool and he berated himself for having left his cane so far away. Stairs were still a problem without it.

'Oh, let's try the levitating fountain to get out," she suggested, knowing Harry hadn't thought of that. "One of the waterslides lets out right into the hot tub," she said eagerly. Harry knew that there was no way he was going to avoid Ginny getting a good look at his battered body, so he decided to just get it over with.

"Yeah, let's try it out," he relented, glaring over at Hermione. Darn her Muggle medicine knowledge.

"You'll be okay on the floating fountain and slide, Harry. We can set it for a slow, gentle descent."

"I'll be fine," he told her when she looked about to change her mind, reminding him that they still had to be careful with his back. "It aches most of the time anyway," he admitted to her for the first time. "I might as well have a reason for it." He wasn't sure he should be doing this, but Lupin's word of encouragement to try to live and have fun, echoed in his ears. Madam Pomfrey would not be pleased.

They glided over to the fountain and watched people float to their chosen slides. Hermione's voice rang out. "Harry, I don't think you should be doing that! Ron, Tell him," she ordered, Mrs Weasley style. Ron kissed her and told her she sounded just like his mom. She backed off, dunking Ron soundly and warned Harry to be careful. Ginny had never minded Hermione's attention to Harry. Hermione was that way with everyone.

Ginny developed second thoughts, just as Harry decided to relax. She called the twins over, who, although they were the most boisterous of the lot, asked them seriously if they thought Harry should ride the fountain. You had to hand it to Fred and George. They had Harry's best interests at heart.

"Half a minute, little sister," George said, as he and Fred disappeared up the fountain, and splashing back down beside them. "I really think the fountain and slide are fine, it's the smacking down at the bottom that may hurt, Fred said truthfully. "So, use the controls to slow down the last few feet and you should hit the water softly," he finished.

"We'll wait at the bottom inconspicuously for your first spin, just in case," the twins insisted. Hermione was thankful, because it had been her idea to tell Ginny to take him to the hot tub.

Harry and Ginny rode the floating fountain together, and Harry was pleasantly shocked when she sat behind him, arms around his bare waist to ride the slide together. The twists and turns were nothing compared to having her snuggled firmly against his back. She let go and grasped his hand to see him surface when they splashed down.

"Alright Harry?" George laughed at Harry's silly grin, which had nothing to do with the thrilling ride.

"Er...yeah...fine," he said, still grinning.

"Don't hang on so tight next time Gin. I think you may have deprived the poor guy of oxygen," Fred laughed.

"Want to try another one before going to the hot tub?" Ginny asked. Without hesitation, Harry accepted, more to feel her so close to him again than anything else. He marvelled at how she had shown no attention to his cruel scars.

The shame Cho Chang's parents had felt after the most recent attacks, didn't seem to shame Cho herself at all. Unbelievably, still free to roam the school, was Cho enjoying the benefits of Family Week.

After trying unsuccessfully to talk to any of the DA members since the last attack, Cho had surrounded herself with Slytherins, all of whom were only very vaguely familiar to him. Ginny counted to ten as Cho had the nerve to address Harry again.

"Oh Harry!" she declared dramatically, trying to run her fingers over his chest scar. "Those look dreadfully painful!"

Unable to contain herself anymore, Ginny warned, "don't touch him!' Harry didn't want a commotion large enough to get them chucked out of the pool area. He didn't need her to stick up for him...yet he didn't seem to mind this time. He didn't know how to talk to the girl who had caused him so much added turmoil, because once again, she dissoved into tears and ran out saying, "I was only trying to be friendly!"

"With friends like you, who needs enemies?" Ginny roared before Harry could even say a word. If Cho's appeal rendered her innocent, Ginny had been harsh, if not, there wasn't a place she could hide in the whole castle where Ginny wouldn't hunt her. It went beyond jealousy into loathing between them, and Ginny would have been embarrassed by her display, but she sensed something about this girl and it was all bad.

"Come on Harry," Ginny coaxed as if she'd just swatted a fly. She didn't realize that they'd been watched by everyone in the pool, including Hermione and her brothers.

"Way to go Ginny!" Hermione complimented, totally out of character. They had made their mind up about Cho a long time ago. Harry would normally have been very troubled by all of this, but there was bigger things to think of, like the fact that nearly all the girls in the pool were wearing bikinis, a sight that hadn't escaped Ron either and had just earned him a punch on the arm.

'Ouch! Choo do that for?' he asked innocently.

'You can put your eyes back in their sockets now, or if you prefer, I'll do it for you? Hermione asked crossly.

"You tell him Hermione," Harry advised jokingly as Ron scowled at him. Harry had to admit that there were a lot of pretty girls here, but Ginny topped them all in his eyes. He felt distinctly jealous as he noticed (when he was finished checking out the other girls) that there were boys taking appreciative looks at Ginny, and at Hermione. This was difficult.

Each time Harry and Ginny rode the floating fountain, Ginny tried to get him to put his arms around her like Ron had his arms around Hermione, but Harry had both of his arms clung around his chest tightly as if he were cold. He still couldn't help hiding the scars, though he knew that she had surely seen them. Ginny silently cursed Cho for Harry's set back in this matter with her having made such a big deal of his scars.

As they sat in the hot tub, a large palm tree magically swaying over the whole thing, Harry felt like he was visiting a tropical forest. The flushed pink in his cheeks had nothing to do with the heat of the pool as Ginny sat shoulder to shoulder with him. For a fleeting moment, he thought he might pluck up the courage to kiss her again. He had forgotten Ginny's deceit regarding the fake assignment from Professor Binns until now, with all that had happened since then.

The attack at the school had expedited their growing attraction for one another, and Harry had temporarily forgotten all about it, but it still nagged at him. She had done it to spend more time with him so he had thought, but was it, after all, any better than what Petunia had done in brewing a love potion to spend more time with Vernon? Ron had told Harry in no uncertain terms, that there had been another reason why Ginny had deceived him, and for once, Harry decided that it wasn't worth losing something he'd just gained over this. Someday, when she was ready, Ginny would tell him what was going on with that, and he trusted her.

Harry had just decided to give in to his desire to kiss Ginny, when it happened. Moaning Myrtyl broke the surface of the water and began riding up and down the floating waterfall, causing a great stir among the Muggle parents especially and drawing attention to the hot tub when she splashed down next to Harry.

"Oh, hello Harry," she cooed, sounding less morose than the last time they'd met. "I missed you at your Deathday Party," she announced. "I was so looking forward to a dance. I thought you'd stood me up after I'd made the effort to leave my bathroom to greet you with Sir Nicholas and all..."

Myrtly continued. "Honestly, the way you carried on at your funeral...like you didn't have any friends on the other side..." she said, sounding offended. When Harry's jaw dropped, she added, "Oh don't worry Harry, I didn't hold it against you, after all, it wasn't like you could help being dug up and all."

Harry could hear a rushing in his ears. Surely, that had all been a nightmare. There was only one problem...he could remember walking around at his funeral, ranting and raving. Ginny had gone white as a sheet. She had been spared this particular detail. But, if he'd really died, how had he come back?

"Myrtle?" Hermione began tactfully, coming close to them. "I think Harry would rather not talk about..."

"Death?" Moaning Myrtyl asked mournfully. "That's where you're wrong, Miss manners. He thinks about it constantly." The fact that the ghost was absolutely right, did nothing to help. "He is obsessed about his own demise, but more about the mounting death toll of the ones he loves," Myrtyl continued, liking the fact that she could teach the know-it-all something. The kiss that had been on Harry's mind and on his lips, quickly melted away. What business did he have drawing Ginny nearer to him...nearer to harm's way..."

It was as if Moaning Myrtyl had only now just noticed Ginny and was putting two and two together. "Oooh, so who's this then?" she asked swooping over into the hot tub and making the water distinctly colder.

"Ginny...Ginny Weasley. I'm Harry's g...friend," she finished lamely. Harry wouldn't have been bothered if she'd said 'girlfriend.' He was still dwelling on Myrtyl's proclamation that she had missed him at his Deathday Party on the day of his funeral and how he hadn't even had the decency to stay dead! Harry knew he couldn't ask Myrtyl about this seriously. He knew he'd have to wait for Nearly Headless Nick to get back from his trip to watch the headless hunt.

"Well," said Myrtyl brightly, taking in Harry's battered appearance, "You're still awfully pale...my offer still stands." Myrtyl then glanced at Ginny in a non threatening, but significant way, over her horned rimmed glasses. Ginny could have kicked herself. How can one be jealous of a person who isn't even living? But, leave it to Ginny, she was. The bigger picture of Myrtyl's earlier comments, had escaped her, and she couldn't quite figure out why Harry wanted to leave suddenly.

Myrtyl called out, "well, see you Harry..." before mournfully disappearing under the suds and making Harry shiver. Harry was looking like he'd rather be anywhere in the world than here right now, but Ginny had waited for this moment for too long. She wasn't sure if it was right, but with Harry Potter, just getting him alone, or at least all to yourself, was next to impossible. Before he could say a word, Ginny leaned over and pulled him into an embrace and kissed him passionately, just as the last of Moaning Myrtyl's bubbles surfaced. For a minute, Harry couldn't remember anything, even why he'd wanted to leave. He just smiled and said, 'thank you' in a very surprised tone.

Ginny smiled shyly and looked down at her feet through the water. "You're entirely welcome, Mr Potter," she smiled. It was at that moment when Fred and George, self appointed chaperones sent a water balloon howler at them. It burst above their heads filled with icy water and promptly began singing, "Ginny and Harry snogging in a tree..." in the twins melodious voices. When the verse was done and Harry and Ginny were both thoroughly embarrassed, Harry found that he was rather grateful for the cold water balloon. It was getting rather hot in here.

As he headed for the change rooms, Harry knew that he'd have to speak with Nearly Headless Nick to ask about the day of his funeral. Moaning Myrtyl was annoying, but she was no liar.

In the change room, Ron asked Harry if he enjoyed his swim with a big grin on his face. He hadn't heard Myrtyl's comments either. Ron's grin reminded Harry of Ginny's kiss and the fact that his best friend had probably seen it too. The memory of Ginny's kiss, pushed everything else out of his mind...for now.

When Harry admitted that the pool helped his back, Ron made a mental note to ask Dumbledore about leaving even a small part of it for Harry's rehabilitation. The boys took so long in the change room, that the girls were already outside waiting for them.

"Honestly, you'd think you had to curl your hair and do your makeup or something!" Hermione complained. She wanted to get back to Harry's room to go over last minute party and dance plans.

"Well a bloke does like to look his best for the ladies," Fred said, batting his eyelashes. Angelina rolled her eyes at him, linking arms as they made their way to the kitchens for a bite to eat. He leaned down close to Harry and whispered, "See Harry, I told you, wounds heal and birds love scars. Sirius told me that the summer we stayed at Grimmauld Place waiting for you." Harry smiled this time when thinking of Sirius. It would be just like his Godfather to say just that. Lupin had said the same thing, only in a more dignified kind of way just that morning.

Harry looked at Ginny. Her hair was dry and she was wearing it in a long plait down her back. He couldn't wait to see her in her costume for the dance, and he wondered what she had chosen to wear.


	43. Slytherin' Out Of It Again

It had been settled that Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry would all wear clothing from the movie called 'Grease' that was made in the seventies about teenagers in the fifties. The twins absolutely refused to reveal their costumes to anyone, and Angelina and Katie Bell, their dates, looked nervous. The dance was days a way...give or take, as Dumbledore explained. For security reasons, the date of the dance would be revealed on the morning it was to take place. There was quite enough to be going on with, what with the Quidditch match of Gryffindor versus Slytherin tomorrow.

As Harry sat on his bed, tired, but in a good way, Ginny leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear. She had noticed how nervous he had been when his feet couldn't touch the bottom of the pool, and vowed to discreetly teach him how to swim with confidence. These words would have stung, had they come from someone else. Harry didn't like to show fear, but he knew that Ginny cared for him and only wanted to help. Just being in the water had been exhilarating. He had felt his legs move in a way that he hadn't known since the attack, walking without pain or help and he was anxious to do that again.

Harry was mad at himself for being so exhausted but Ginny assured him that swimming was a most demanding sport for those not accustomed to it. He drank his potions and fell asleep with a light kiss from Ginny on his lips. For a long while, Ginny sat with him, making sure he was really asleep before slipping out to meet up with some friends in the Gryffindor common room for some catching up and to do some alterations on her costume. For unbeknownst to any of them, Ginny had watched 'Grease' with Winky the house-elf once more and had chosen a costume from the movie that resembled a cat suit. A far cry from the poodle skirt Ron and the twins would have chosen for her. She couldn't wait to see Harry's reaction.

Ginny spent an hour chatting and fiddling with the costume with some of fifth year friends before she too became sleepy. They all left the common room together to make their ways to their respective private Family Week accommodations. Just as she had rounded a corner, leaving her on her own to make her way back to the Hospital Wing, she felt a tingle up her spine like she was being followed. Assuming it was just one her friends who had forgotten to tell her something, she turned around quickly, surprised to find no one standing there. 'Wow, I must really be tired,' she reasoned, with a shiver nonetheless. She couldn't help but pick up her pace and felt annoyed at her paranoia. Hadn't Dumbledore himself said that the new wards on the old castle were of the highest quality possible?

Ginny found her breaths come in short panic waves for reasons she couldn't explain and the way back to the Hospital Wing seemed endless compared to the short pleasant jaunt there. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she drew her wand anyway, glad that she had it on her. She turned around to peer into the empty corridor behind her. There weren't even any hiding places in this particular one she had just turned into. She reached the staircase and began to descend feeling a little more confident now that she must be experiencing a case of bad nerves, but no, the unmistakable feeling of being followed continued. The torches lighting the staircase flickered, for a moment plunging the entire stairs and corridor ahead and behind her into total darkness. She took a deep breath, not knowing whether to call out, or to turn back or go ahead.

Forcing herself to remain calm despite the attack of a few days ago, Ginny lit her wand tip and continued to make her way back while the torches flickered eerily on and off. She didn't know whether she actually heard footsteps or imagined them because of the conditions of the torches. She knew the old school was drafty, but as she reached the landing, ready to go down another flight, the staircases decided to change and a strong bitter breeze blew fiercely against her face, making her shut her eyes as gusts of dust blew into them. She gripped the railing with all her might as the wind changed direction and the staircase bolstered itself back together in a completely different direction. She now had no idea of where she was going.

Harry awoke with a start, hoping to see Ginny still sitting by his bed, or better yet beside him, but she was no where to be seen. He felt ashamed to want her so much like that. She deserved some time with her friends, after all, he had fallen asleep. 'The life of the party,' he muttered to himself. He felt very tense and hoped he wasn't having a problem with her having left him for a short while. He didn't want to be possessive, and it scared him how much anxiety he felt at this moment just at her not being here. Harry vowed he wouldn't tell her about it, lest she feel obligated to him. He knew how he felt about her, but he didn't want to admit to himself that he thought she felt the same way. That would just be setting himself up. Nothing else in his life had been permanent so far.

Harry forbid himself to call someone to enquire as to her whereabouts. He had worried before...and someone had died because of it... "Sirius," Harry said, almost inaudibly, feeling the guilt that had been his since the end of the last school year. If he hadn't believed Sirius to be in grave danger, Sirius would, in fact, still be alive today.

Harry was used to being alone, he'd spent a long time alone in the cupboard under the stairs. He tried in vain anything that used to pass the time for him when he'd been locked up in Privet Drive. Nothing worked. He didn't want to disturb Ron and Hermione to ask where Ginny was and he was afraid of looking pathetic for asking when she'd only been gone for awhile. He thought of asking permission to go 'for a walk,' but couldn't think up an excuse to give Ginny for coming after her, and he knew that the Matron would never allow him out on his own anyway.

Making his way out to get a glass of milk, Harry almost ran into Ron on the way out of his room. He and Hermione had just come back to see if Ginny and Harry wanted to play exploding snap, even though Angelina Johnson, the Quidditch captain, had warned them all to have an early night. It was later then Harry had thought and Ginny had told Hermione that she would be back in an hour. She had been gone for three.

Harry tried not to show his fear. Hermione smiled and assured him that Ginny must just have lost track of time and that she would go and search her out, but the glance that passed between Ron and her, was not casual.

Hermione put on a very false looking smile. Ginny was usually very prompt and given the danger the school was now in, it made sense to find her quickly just to be sure.

"Harry, I'm positive Ginny's just a little er...preoccupied. Wait 'til you see her costume and you'll know the wait is more than worth it," Hermione said cheerfully, but she was already going through the doors to look for Ginny as she said it. Paranoia was the new way of life at Hogwarts since the attack.

"I'm coming with you," Harry tried, but failed to say casually.

"No mate, we'll be right back," Ron told him. "Besides, if she thinks you're checking up on her, she'll be mad. You know women..."

"No, I don't," Harry admitted, "but neither do you, so I'm coming," he stated as Hermione smiled slightly at his reply.

First stop was the Gryffindor common room where Ginny had said she'd been going. It was empty, and the Fat Lady was indignant that they checked anyway, despite her telling them so. The worry only became really evident when they had talked to all of Ginny's fifth year friends who had been with their families for over two hours now.

"Well, there's nothing for it now, we've got to tell Dumbledore and everyone so they can look for her," Ron said calmly, though a lead ball had just dropped into his stomach.

Visions of Ginny lying as though dead in the chamber of secrets flashed in Harry's memories and he tried to push them back down in vain. He wanted to call her name at the top of his lungs, but knew if she was anywhere within shouting distance, she would have heard them by now.

"Maybe we just missed her," Hermione said hopefully. When they reached the Hospital Wing and the Weasley accommodations, Mrs Weasley knew immediately that something was wrong. Ginny was not here either as they had hoped. Harry didn't even feel his knees buckle as he slid to the floor. Ron helped him into his chair and he sat with his hands in his hair. He didn't feel strong this time as he had when he had saved her from the basilisk all those years ago. He couldn't be her hero this time if she needed one. At this point he knew that if he even had to pick up the sword of Godric Gryffindor as he had once done, he couldn't wield it in his present condition. He was ashamed. Someone else would have to be her rescuer now, if she needed one, and the sick feeling in his very soul, told him that she did.

The feelings that had passed between Harry, Ron and Hermione, felt like a string in Harry's mind. The Telephotus Dreams had left them all with a certain amount of sense of one another and Harry knew that his 'saving people thing,' had come full circle when he swore to himself that he could feel Ginny's presence very slightly tonight, coming in short waves of panic and fight. For a time, he said nothing, trying to make certain he wasn't mistaken or tricked like he had been when he had led his friends and the Order into the chamber of secrets based on mistaken feelings, leading ultimately to Sirius's death and serious injuries to his friends. Harry struggled to decipher fact from fiction in his mind and to make sure that the feelings he now felt, were all his own and not planted by Voldemort.

People made ready to search for Ginny, none of them in a particular panic when a report came back that all wards around the castle were in place firmly. Dumbledore placed his hand under Harry's chin and lifted his face up.

"Doubt is a good thing Harry only when one is unsure of something. Lupin told me all about your having found Ron based on his fear. I believe now you are having very real bonds with your friends." Under any but this situation, Harry would have felt very on the spot, as everyone who had gathered stared at him expectantly, like a Muggle police dog who was supposed to pick on a scent. Feeling this way, gave Harry an idea and he called to Max, holding up one of Ginny's hair ties for him to sniff. In other circumstances, Ron would have teased Harry about having one of his sister's hair ties in his pocket, but now, the thought hadn't even come to the cold numbness that had overtaken him upon finding out that Ginny was missing. Harry could even smell the sweet balsam shampoo Ginny always used on the hair tie.

Madam Pomfrey did not approve of Harry going with the searchers, lest they encounter battle which he was not fit for, but as he was the best lead they had, there was no choice. Harry held his breath, willing himself not to curse Draco Malfoy into oblivion when he suggested that Ginny was with another boy in a broom closet or something when asked if he had seen her. When Ron saw who Malfoy was with, he steered Harry off in the opposite direction. Cho Chang had been on his arm! If Draco wanted to maintain his innocence in having involvement in Harry's kidnapping, he'd picked a poor example of a girlfriend in Cho Chang, whom Tonks had confided to Mrs Weasley, stood a very good chance of losing her appeal in her case of involvement in the crime as well. When Harry didn't even react to seeing her on Draco's arm, Cho made a rather loud noise of contempt, making Draco very angry. The Slytherin and Ravenclaw left arguing loudly.

Harry felt like cursing himself for his stupidity in forgetting the Marauders map. Dumbledore sent Hermione, Ron, Tonks and Kingsley Shaklebolt to obtain it. They had wasted precious time. Harry mentally berated himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. By the time the map was in hand, fifteen precious minutes had dwindled away on fruitless search.

The Aurors present in this group, were fascinated as Harry muttered the words, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." It took only minutes of scrunched up eyes to find tiny little letters spelling out Ginerva Weasley. Harry breathed. She was in the school at least, and yes, the tiny little dot, was pacing back and forth in a very tiny area surrounded by four walls.

It was unnerving to say the least that even Dumbledore didn't know every part of the castle by heart, even after all his years at Hogwarts. As far as they could tell by the map, which now had all the names of the searchers moving toward the dot that said Ginny's name, including Max, they were going in the right direction. It appeared that Ginny was alone and mobile wherever she was, but they should have been getting closer to her by now. The gap in distance between them and the dot that was Ginny on the map, did not appear to be closing any. Frustration grew with every step they took.

After walking for what seemed like an eternity, Harry could go no further this way, even though his will would not give up. He felt Ron's arm under his just as he felt his knees give way. Humiliation was not an option if he wanted to remain on the search team, so he didn't argue when Dumbledore conjured hover chair for him. Heros were supposed to arrive on white steeds with swords drawn, not in a hover chair with an old map, that apparently had seen better days.

Suddenly Harry yelled for them to stop. They were standing in the very place Ginny Weasley was supposed to be according to the old map, but she was no where to be seen. The dot that was her supposedly, continued to pace slower now and a tiny speech bubble appeared at it's mouth, which could be seen better now that they were supposedly so close to her. Words appeared one after another. 'Alohomora!" appeared over and over again.

Harry wished he had paid Ginny more attention in previous years. Maybe he could have taught her to avoid whatever had happened or at least something that would have enabled her to get out now. Harry felt a lump form in his throat at the word that appeared next, simply, "Harry," and than the dot appeared smaller, having sat down or something and stopped moving. Harry instinctively touched the dot as though he could protect her from here, wherever here was.

Mad Eye Moody scanned the ceiling and the floor to see if his magical eye could see through them to reveal a secret place above or below them, but as yet, nothing could explain the fact that they were sitting upon the very spot where she was according to the map.

Harry stood up in frustration, having had enough of the hover chair. There was no time for sitting. Ginny had stopped moving and hadn't resumed her pacing or escape attempts for several minutes. Everyone in the search party had stopped moving to scan the ceiling or floor for reasons even they couldn't explain to themselves, for none of them had the gift of seeing through solid objects and indeed even Mad Eye Moody could not see through the polished marble or the ancient plastered ceilings of Hogwarts. With everyone else stopped, the only moving dot among them now stood out more vividly, but it was not one of their party at all. It was Cho Chang. Harry looked up expecting to see the girl walking toward them, but she was no where to be seen by the naked eye.

"Professor Moody! Over there! Do you see her?" Harry implored, but by the blank expression on Mad Eye's face as his magical roving eye scanned the area in which he had pointed, there was no one there, Invisibility Cloaked or not. Harry yelled in frustration as Dumbledore scanned the map with no more ideas about this phenomenon than anyone else had, yet there it was, plain as day, the dot with Cho's name on it, and it was approaching the dot labelled Ginny Weasley with a purpose that only a person that could see her could tell.

The Cho dot seemed to glide through whatever wall was appearing on the Marauder's map. It was the only time the map had let them down, and Harry banged his fists on the walls in frustration yelling Ginny's name as the dot labelled 'Cho,' seemed to be dragging the dot labelled 'Ginny,' away from them.

"NO!" Harry yelled as Mad Eye grabbed his now bleeding fists to prevent his continued punching the walls around him. This could not be happening again! It might as well have been the veil that had taken Sirius all over again. "No," he half sobbed hoarsely as Ron put his arm around Harry and slumped down beside him, having blasted pieces of wall away himself in attempt to get through.

To see Professor Dumbledore looking so unusually hopeless, was unnerving and anger rose in Harry to see the old man so human, when Harry had always looked to him for help, even when the Headmaster had not been forthcoming with things as Harry knew he should have been. There were no ideas, no pearls of wisdom, no hurried instructions for her rescue. The old man just leaned wearily on the wall, and Harry realized just how old Dumbledore must be. All this walking had tired him. Once again, Harry's anger went back to the proper target, Voldemort and his followers.

He had never seen Dumbledore so pale and fragile. Dumbledore knew in his heart that if anything happened to Ginny Weasley that ended her life, Harry's life would be shattered like glass, and with it, the hopes of the whole world. This old castle held many secrets that the old man had never known, despite his vast knowledge of most things concerning Hogwarts. The Room Of Requirement had served as a blessing, giving them a place to study their defence, but this new facet of the castle was a curse on them all. They could only watch in grim silence as the dot labelled 'Cho,' deposited the dot labelled 'Ginny' on the floor and walked away, leaving her propped against a wall.

Everyone knew what had to be done. The Aurors took off quickly back the way they had come, or as near as any of them could tell anyway with the maze of corridors and changing staircases. The Headmaster stayed with Harry Ron and the twins, too tired to continue the search.

Dumbledore shouted charms of revelation at the walls and ceiling and floors to see if they would reveal their secrets, but they were all as useless as Harry's fists had been. Harry knew the Aurors would catch Cho as she made her way back to the area she had entered the secret place from, but would she tell them anything? Was Ginny alright, or would they retrieve a body for their efforts? And where was Draco Malfoy, for he had most certainly been with Cho before her little trip to parts unknown to them. He would get off again, and Harry burned with anger, but Harry knew if he got Ginny safely back in his arms, Cho would go down for this crime once and for all.

Bartemius Crouch must have studied Mad Eye Moody's personality very thoroughly when he had impersonated him in Harry's fourth year. The real Mad Eye's punishment methods differed little from those of his imposter. As Cho emerged from her secret passage site, crying, to the Aurors complete astonishment, Mad Eye was all over her in an instant, his magical eye roving over very close to her tear streaked face.

"Right then girlie," he growled, showing no sympathy, but getting right down to the business of finding Ginny. "What have you done with Ginevera Weasley?" The old Aurors wand was trained on the terrified girl and Tonks found herself wishing that Lupin were here to keep things in hand. Mad Eye had been known to delve out punishments before suspects ever made it to Azkaban, a habit of leftover hatred of the inadequate justice system which had led to all of this catastrophe in the first place. Moody was far from chauvinistic as he conjured shackles which wound their way roughly around Cho's ankles and hands no gentler than he would be with a male suspect.

"Talk!" Mad Eye barked at her gruffly as Cho sniffled, caught at last.

"I didn't know he was going to..." she sobbed. "It was just a prank..." but she would say no more to shed light on who 'he' was. Of course they all knew. "Ginny Weasley was the reason for my being kicked out of the DA!" she snapped, strength and composure returning to her sulky expression. " I just went and untied her. She could have left when she woke up," Cho said, as though nothing serious had taken place.

"Take us to her now!" Tonks yelled at the girl, who had expected some compassion from the only female member of the group. She would receive none. Cho clearly did not know the serious nature of her crimes, or was feigning stupidity and leaning on having acted on another's wishes.

Harry shuddered as the Marauder's map showed all of the Aurors led by Cho, pass seemingly right through them, even appearing to overshadow their own dots as they passed.

Had Ginny not been propped unconscious against a wall opposite them, the Aurors would have been in awe of the place. Hundreds of years of old cobwebs and dust lay over thick green...was it green? old leather furniture. The ceilings had to be sixty feet with a fireplace covering almost an entirety of a wall, and a mantle that stretched out of carved oak all the way to the ceiling with ornate designs of large four leaf clovers clinging to a vine that stretched, weaving over the whole beautiful thing. The strangest sight of all, was the fact that a fully grown living tree none of them could identify was growing right in the middle of the room. The ceiling had fallen into terrible states of disrepair with huge gaping cracks leaving it open to the now night time sky.

Tonks reached Ginny first and laid her hands on her shoulders, feeling their movements of shallow breath. Ginny's eyes flew open and she aimed a curse at Tonks so fast that she sent the unprepared auror flying across the room, landing unconscious opposite her in the little nook off the great room. Moody, showing uncharacteristic restraint, did not want to stun the obviously injured girl. His shout of "Expelliarmus!" came as a relief to Ginny, though she was now disarmed. She knew they had found her.

"You!" Ginny shouted, trying, and failing to lunge at Cho Chang with all her might. "What have you done with him! Professor Moody, they, they've got Harry..."

"No, Miss Weasley, we have Mr Potter in our possession, I'm assuming this is how they lured you here?"

"Y...yes..." Ginny admitted, once again receiving that look that said very clearly, "you should have come to us first, from Tonks, who was only now getting to her feet from Ginny's curse.

Ginny attempted to get up, but fell back as she realized that the backs of her heels seared with pain when she attempted to put any weight on them at all. Placing her hand to her forehead, she found a large goose egg there as well. She apologized to Tonks who came over to survey the damage.

'No problem," Tonks dismissed. "Nice one though."

"So...Harry's safe?" Ginny sighed, tears of relief now falling freely down her face. Here she was, injured and all, worried about him.

"He's fine, now let's get you to the Hospital Wing and you can answer some questions there," Tonks said.

Moody and Tonks knew better then to let Cho and Ginny get anywhere near each other and Ginny's wand remained in Moody's possession all the way back. If there was any way they could have signalled that Ginny was alive, they would have, but first, Ginny needed to placed in the Hospital Wing and Cho would be secured.

Harry took it as a bad sign that the Aurors did not come to them with Ginny and Cho right away. Twenty minutes of hell passed as Harry watched only the one little dot labelled Ginny floating along the corridors toward the Hospital Wing. Where had she been? Harry's shoulders slumped half in relief, half in worry when the tiny figure of Madam Pomfrey bustled about to her medicine cabinet and back to the bed that Ginny now lay in. Medicine was no good to a dead person, so she was alive! Harry felt supremely guilty for his earlier thoughts of the Headmaster as the old man slid down the wall he had been leaning on in exhaustion and relief. He and Harry had worked tirelessly trying to find a way through the wall to get to Ginny as well.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir, are you okay?" Harry asked, his voice laced with regret.

"Don't trouble yourself," the old man smiled thinly, but his eyes betrayed the sentiment of the statement. He did not look at all well. The war was taking it's toll on him. He'd been fighting it for a long time, and it wasn't even his first war. Harry wondered how much worse the world would be today without Dumbledore and a fear seized him that the old man would die. Harry had never considered this possibility. Dumbledore was the one person who was going to see Harry through his part in the war, killing Voldemort. Harry knew no one else in the world could help him with that, though Dumbledore had hinted strongly for over a year now that there was someone who could help him possibly more than even he could.

When Dumbledore closed his weary eyes to rest a moment, Harry yelled to him in panic, crossing the space between he and the Headmaster faster than he had moved since the attack. "Sir! Professor Dumbledore!" he shook the man's shoulders roughly.

"Easy Mr Potter," Dumbledore smiled, "I am merely meditating to regain my strength. I do this every day, but as of late, it seems there is little time for rejuvenation. I just need to rest," he told Harry and Harry finally believed him, for now anyway. But as Dumbledore had often ordered him to the Hospital Wing or called for the Matron against his wishes, Harry was about to pay him back by taking the Matron aside to tell her of Dumbledore's uncharacteristic fatigue.

A full half hour later, they heard someone stumping up the corridor toward them and heard the unmistakable clunking of Mad Eye Moody's wooden stump.

"How's Ginny, Professor?" Hermione shouted up the hall, running toward the disfigured Auror.

"She's injured, but Poppy's sorting her out," Moody said, in what Hermione was sure he thought was a gentle tone.

"Let's go then!" Harry was up and walking as quickly as he could as Moody led the way through the maze of newly discovered corridors. He was surprised when Dumbledore elected to ride along beside him in a slightly more elaborate purple velvet hover chair.

Just as Harry was reaching the Hospital Wing doors, he ran for the first time since the attack that had stolen this ability from him. "Ginny!" he shouted, opening the curtains around her bed without thinking of what state of dress or undress she may be in. It was the furthest from his mind. He just had to see her.

Ginny's eyes were closed and she looked comfortable enough, in a flannel striped dressing gown, covered in the pressed white sheets and blankets of the Hospital Wing. He didn't care if tears were falling from his eyes and landing on her bed clothes, or if anyone saw them for that matter. "Oh, Ginny," he whispered as Ron and Hermione peered through the curtain as well.

Poppy had assured the rest of the Weasleys that she would recover fine, and Molly and Arthur had reluctantly reported for duty with the order to round up Draco Malfoy, though Cho had not named him in the 'prank,' of which no one yet knew the details.

"Ginny?' Harry whispered. He didn't want to wake her up, but he had to see her open her eyes. He was ashamed to remember a time in Privet that reminded him of a similar insecurity. When thunder storms raged in Little Whinging when he was a child, the Dursley's provided no comfort for him. He was scared that they had left him in the house alone, locked in the cupboard under the stairs, to flee the storms. He would strain his ears to hear at least a cough or loud snore from someone, just to know he wasn't alone, though for all the world he knew he was.

The calming potion Madam Pomfrey had given Ginny was working, but when she heard Harry's quiet anguish laced plea to her, she forced her eyes open. Harry drew a sharp intake of breath, inhaling one of his tears in the process.

"If you're that thirsty, there's water right there, love," Ginny smiled weakly at him. He gave a small pathetic laugh.

"Can I hug you?" he still whispered as though she may break.

"Yeah, of course, I won't break." Ginny's hug back soothed Harry's soul. She was strong in her embrace, a good sign he felt.

"What happened?" Ron couldn't help but burst in on his little sister and Harry.

"I'm not sure of everything," she told her red eyed brother who had his arm around a puffy faced Hermione.

"Where are you hurt?" Hermione whispered, matching Harry's gentle tones for some reason, though Ginny seemed now fully awake.

"It was a slicing curse..." Ginny too whispered, as though saying it would make the pain return. She had done her best to ignore it while she was trapped in the unknown place, but upon rescue, the adrenalin having diminished, it had come to her full force.

"They cut my achilleas tendons so I couldn't get away. They were hooded. Later, Cho came in with a potion for me and kept saying sorry. She told me she was giving my wand back, but she stunned me first so I couldn't use it on her. When I came to, I had the wand and she was gone. She threatened me that she would have you beaten again if I said anything, but things just got out of hand. They just wanted me out of the Quidditch game tomorrow, and I will be..."

Harry, Ron and Hermione seethed with anger. Had the castle not been swarming with Aurors, they would have taken matters into their own hands.

"I thought I heard your voice in the corridor as I passed by a staircase, Harry. I went to see where you were, and before I knew it, the torches began to flicker and the staircase switched so fast I lost all orientation. I don't think I was supposed to see them, but I knew Cho's voice anywhere.." Ginny said with contempt. I called to her and she gave up her identity after that, though the other one didn't speak. I told Mad Eye that I thought it was Malfoy, but so far, I have no proof."

Harry could have spit. He was sick and tired of the Slytherin scumbag getting away with everything he had done, especially this. If he went unpunished by the law, Harry would make him wish that he had been sent to Azkaban, but he would have to get in line behind every one of Ginny's brother's first.

Fred and George showed amazing restraint when they rounded up Malfoy for questioning. Nothing would have been more pleasurable for them then to have pummelled the living daylights out of Malfoy, but they had to prove themselves now that they were to join the Order in a few months time. Dumbledore thought this a fitting test for the impetuous brothers.

Malfoy, a natural coward when alone, squirmed uncomfortably when approached by the much taller twins. Considering the victim of the malicious attack was their younger and only sister, Fred and George were none too gentle in leading Draco Malfoy to the Headmaster's office. Several times he 'tripped' on the way and by the time he reached the stone gargoyles outside the Dumbledore's office, he was slightly the worse for the wear. The twins would later receive a talking to about this, but nothing too serious.

Fred noticed that Dumbledore, who usually did all the questioning concerning his own students, merely sat with his hands under his bearded chin and let Mad Eye Moody perform the questioning of Cho Chang and Draco Malfoy. Snape, as head of Slytherin, was summoned to attend and looked about to interrupt several times, but caught himself in the Headmaster's watchful gaze too often. When neither Draco or Cho gave satisfactory answers to Moody's questions about not only what they had done to Ginny, but also how long they had known about the secret rooms, which now had been given a brief search to find that they included dorms as well as the cavernous rooms where Ginny had been held. Evidence of recent modern parties littered the dusty old common room, including modern bottles of Butterbeer and several well known wizarding confectionaries.

Mad Eye Moody used his wand to throw into relief the fingerprints from several of the bottles of Butterbeer and Dumbledore merely referenced them against a list of student names, saying "Comparo!" Names appeared next to the fingerprints on the bottles, several of which were Cho's, but none, to everyone's complete surprise, were Draco Malfoy's. It seemed Crabbe and Goyle and several of the students already incarcerated for the kidnapping of Harry Potter, had also spent time in the secret location.

To the complete annoyance of everyone including Dumbledore, Malfoy continued to express his utmost innocence and lack of knowledge of any such place within the confines of the castle.

Cho, having had just about enough of this from Malfoy screamed in frustration. "He was the one who showed us where the Fifth House was!" she spat. It was the first time anyone had referred to the new discovery as the Fifth House, although many who had already seen it among the Aurors and Dumbledore, had become accustomed to calling it that, even in just this short time.

Most felt it must have been the living area, hundreds of years ago, of the legendary house, which had, until now, been wiped from memory and seen as nothing more than a fable told by those dreamers who craved house unity. Until the rise of Voldemort, the legend of the Fifth House hadn't been popular, but now, since the hint from the Sorting Hat of its existence, debate sparked all over the castle this term.

"Is it true Mr Malfoy that you showed Cho Chang this secret place in the castle and participated in the attack on Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore said calmly.

"No, and No!" spat Malfoy, anger flashing in his cold blue eyes. "And I believe I'm entitled to a defence here!"

"Of course, of course", Dumbledore told him. "However, I might remind you that until you are cleared of the charge of hazing, as Miss Chang has described the incident with Miss Weasley, you will of course understand that I cannot in good conscience allow you to play in the Quidditch match against Gryffindor tomorrow, and I'm sure your Head Of House will agree...Severus?"

Quite so, Headmaster," sneered Professor Snape and no one could quite tell whether Snape was sneering at the mention of his Seeker not being allowed to play or at Malfoy for having been implicated in the crime. At this, Malfoy began to act like a spoiled brat, much like he had when he was younger when he was with his father, and the tantrum unbecoming of his age, was of no help to him at all.

Under wizarding law, at the discretion of inner school discipline, a student may submit to a dose of Veratiserum to expedite any detention or lack of privileges imposed upon them by a member of the staff. The twins jaws dropped simultaneously when Malfoy agreed to this at once. Cho just looked at Malfoy with utmost disbelief, knowing surely that he would be giving himself away as the mastermind behind the whole attack on Ginny...and if Dumbledore asked, the kidnapping of Harry as well. Cho's eyes were wide as saucers. Her appeal was mere days away for the kidnapping incident, and it did not bode well to have been caught leaving Ginny Weasley in the spot known only to mostly Slytherins.

Malfoy downed the Veratiserum handed to him by his Head Of House with a warning to be sure he knew what he was doing. The twins felt like beating every inch of the little git when, as unlikely as it seemed, Malfoy answered every question Dumbledore threw at him with flying innocent colours. He denied successfully having had anything to do with taking Ginny and damaging her ankles, leaving her unable to make her way back to the populated part of the castle. Cho's eyes were dripping with angry tears.

Dumbledore knew that asking Malfoy about the kidnapping of Harry was separate under wizarding law, as it represented a larger crime and he was not allowed to question about the incident, much to his regret, having the boy under his control for five minutes. Snape was heard to let an audible sigh, whether of relief or frustration, no one would ever know.

Incredibly, Malfoy also denied knowledge of the discovery of the Fifth House, but he admitted to having heard the place referred to as Clover House. Fred and George, although disappointed that no one could be charged for merely knowing of the secret place and not telling someone of authority about it, knew that they themselves would probably have fully explored the place before letting it become public domain as well.

"Well, if that's all Professor Dumbledore," Malfoy said maliciously, sounding like he had deliberately said, 'Dumbelldore,' "I'll be taking my leave."

"Draco!" cried Cho. "How did you do that?"

"Don't know what you're talking about...Cho was it?" Malfoy glared at her.

The full weight of what had just happened hit Chang, who slunk to floor moaning. "No...he's the one who got me to...you've got to believe me."

When Cho was offered the same option as Malfoy with the Veratiserum, she flatly declined. Mad Eye Moody reminded her forcefully that she had been seen by Aurors leaving Miss Weasley and she alone would be charged for the assault and subsequent forcible confinement, all very serious charges in her already troubled appeal process. She chose to remain silent, much to Fred and George's deepest annoyance, but there was at least some satisfaction when Mad Eye Moody used his rights as an Auror to place Cho in irons again, a practice frowned upon by the school usually, but his right nonetheless.

It was fully frustrating for everyone, since Ginny hadn't actually seen her attackers, other then Cho, who only arrived, as far as she could swear, to give her wand back and give her some water. At least she would not be walking freely among the school population anymore and her appeal looked more unlikely to be successful on this side of things.

Malfoy was another matter and Fred and George and even Mad Eye Moody wondered if Snape had spared his student real Veratiserum, but under Dumbledore's watchful eye, they doubted that even he would try something like that. So far it seemed Malfoy was too smart to be leaving evidence around for all to see. He had evaded consequences for all of the crimes everyone was so anxious to catch him in. Cho would likely be charged as an accessory, but it would go poorly for her not to name her accomplices.

For the moment, Harry didn't care about any of this. He had to be by Ginny's side. She had tried to ease his fears by trying to convince him that this had been a prank gone wrong to put her out of the upcoming Quidditch Match, but she knew it was something more sinister than that and if she'd not been found in time...

Harry looked into her eyes. She was so strong, reassuring him that she was being released from the Hospital Wing in only a day, but he had always known that she would come to harm just for knowing him. Ginny knew that look all too well as Harry plotted his revenge upon whoever did this to her, and thought about how, ultimately, this had to be his fault.

"Don't Harry," she warned. "Dumbledore's known for a long time that we have to stick together to fight this war, and it's not just Voldemort, it's everyone who supports him. We're playing Quidditch tomorrow come hell or high water. Each little victory they get to suppress us, is a battle won on their side."

Harry smiled at Ginny, his resolve strengthened. He marvelled at how this small girl could always make sense to him. He had to kill Voldemort, that much he knew, and now, he was getting just a taste of the selfless strength that was backing him up. Somehow, the Quidditch game would be played tomorrow...come Hell or high water.

A/N Harry has spent most of this year feeling useless, so at the news that he is allowed to play in the match against Slytherin, he is not only overjoyed, he looks forward to facing Malfoy on a level playing field...but Slytherins rarely play fair, and Harry has a score to settle. Please leave me a review if you have time.


	44. Hell or High Water

Harry lifted the sheets slightly to look at Ginny's ankles, heavily bandaged in gauze. Seeing this made his own ankles throb intensely. For some reason, tears for her pain didn't seem to so embarrassing to him. He wiped them quickly away just the same, replacing the blankets around her legs.

"Oh Ginny I'm so sorry..." he murmured quietly.

"It's not your fault," Ginny assured him, and she even managed to give him a little smile.

The Aurors standing guard in the school felt that the attack on Ginny had been a heavy handed attempt to get Gryffindor to forfeit the match tomorrow, but this didn't make things any easier for Harry to take. Either way, it still felt like it was his fault somehow. She was seeker because he couldn't be.

"Guess I'm out for tomorrow," Ginny said ruefully, and then with a little more spunk that made Harry smile, she added with a venom not normally associated with her style, "And when I get my hands on that Cho Chang, burrowing head lice will be the least of her problem!"

"That's my girl," Harry smiled back at her. She had such spunk, lying there recovering from an assault that would have incapacitated most boys more heavily physically and mentally then she seemed to be acting. Harry had never hit a girl before, but he felt a need for vengeance on Cho that unnerved him.

"Speaking of the match tomorrow, Harry, I guess unless we can find a replacement, we will have to forfeit..." Ginny said, looking ashamed. She was the same as Harry, always feeling responsible. He couldn't believe she was even thinking about the Quidditch match with all that had happened. He knew he liked this girl for a good reason.

It was then that Mrs Weasley came in, looking very weary. She sat down next to Harry, just in front of where Ron and Hermione stood.

"You're such a good boy," she said to Harry, "just where you should be..." Her eyes twinkling with tears. Harry felt a relief at Mrs Weasley's words, that once again, no one was mad at him for what happened, because he still felt that ultimately all of these attacks were aimed at him. No one could argue that he was right.

"The Headmaster and a couple of the Aurors, ones you know already, will be down shortly to ask you some questions, Ginny dear," Mrs Weasley informed her. Harry knew what a toll these sessions of trying to identify sounds and occurrences to the authorities could be. He'd had to relive some horrible memories several times in his life to give statements to the adults. While Ginny appeared calm and collected now, he didn't know how she would do having to tell everyone what had happened. He knew how weak it had all made him feel, not having been able to do anything to save himself, and he vowed to be there beside her as she recounted the events leading up to her being found trapped in the Fifth House.

Ginny's voice was strong as she recalled how the lights flickered and went out and the rough clanging as the staircases changed course in a manner she had never experienced before, but Harry felt her hand tighten in her grip on his as she described feeling followed, with no one visible behind her in the empty corridors of the floor she had never seen before in her five years at Hogwarts. It was the unknown that had been the worst. Once she had at least figured out that whoever was playing this sick game was at least human, she had managed to calm herself somewhat. The thought of an evil spirit of this unknown part of the castle had terrified her and conjured memories of the Chamber Of Secrets. She remembered having jumped when the Slicing Curse had been aimed at her, very high into the air. She admitted that had it not been for her self taught karate from the Muggle book she'd been studying by Hagrid's cabin, the curse would have hit her in vital organs. Harry gritted his teeth, realizing that whomever had aimed the curse had probably meant to kill Ginny and this was no simple attempt to put off the Quidditch game after all. Ginny hadn't wanted Harry to hear this information, but she knew that if she had asked him to leave, it would have devastated him.

Dumbledore was grave indeed at the end of the questioning and Harry noticed that Ginny too had paled during the long session. Madam Pomfrey insisted that the questions cease for the time being, and Harry was more relieved even then Ginny. He couldn't hear anymore for tonight. He just wanted to hold her in his arms and convince himself that she was really here.

Tonks stayed behind and informed them all that a clear route had been established to the unconfirmed Clover House and historians had been dispatched from the Ministry to investigate the ruined house. Ginny was surprised and pleased to know that full credit for finding the old house had been given to her, even though the circumstances had been unusual at best. Dumbledore felt that rewarding the people who had found it and remained silent, would send the wrong message. A head count among the students and guests had confirmed that there were no other mysterious disappearances among other Quidditch players or students. The incident had not been reported to other students and guests, but no one had any doubt that Malfoy was off somewhere bragging about his triumph over Veratiserum, and lamenting the loss of their secret meeting place.

Snape had admitted that, while highly doubtful that Malfoy had the gift to make the Anti Veratiserum Potion on his own, it was not something that could be entirely ruled out, for he had always said that the younger Malfoy would be a gifted potion maker, though he had never said why. Cho's appeal would be pushed back, pending further investigation into her new charges. Fred and George had been so angry, they had decided to blow off some steam with a few rounds around the lake on their new brooms to get the feel for them, though as of yet, with Ginny a definite out for tomorrow's game against Slytherin, the match would likely be called off anyway. Any of the fill ins from last year, had never even had a practice this year.

When Tonks was finished filling them all in, she left to check on Professor Lupin, who was recovering from his transformation back to human form. Harry was anxious to see him. Ron and Hermione sat down in chairs on either side of Ginny's bed, while Harry sat down beside her on the bed. It struck him that she had not cried much at all for all she'd been through, and he felt a bit ashamed. He had cried several times, mostly out of frustration when he'd been in hospital, and his irrational fears about his being weak came back seeing how brave the small girl he loved was being. It was startling to him how much she really read his mind, when she said to him, "Harry, I'm fine, really. You were hurt a lot worse than this, you know."

Harry didn't know what to say to this, so he just looked down at his feet. He wanted to fill her room with flowers and sweets and get well cards that sang, and suddenly he smiled, remembering the singing card that she had sent him when he'd been hurt. Harry didn't want Ginny to fall asleep, but he knew she needed to rest. For the longest time, he just sat, holding her hand, watching her chest rise and fall slightly, just to make sure she was still breathing.

When Madam Pomfrey came in later, she had to wake up the three waiting visitors to send them to their own beds. Harry did not want to leave, but he complied, whispering quietly to Ginny that he would be right back as soon as morning came. Madam Pomfrey tried not to be annoyed as Harry gave her a list of instructions on how to care for Ginny and to call him if anything happened or if she needed anything. Just to get him to go to bed, the Matron practically had to repeat Harry's instructions back to him just to assure him that she had heard and understood them all.

"You know who you're acting like, eh mate? Mom," Ron teased. "But it suits you," he added, making Harry throw a light punch on his arm.

'Hey! Watch that," Ron said to him. "I think you're getting your strength back in leaps and bounds judging by that punch," he added, rubbing his arm.

As Ron and Harry were about to drift off to sleep for the night, or what was left of it, Harry's guilt reared it's ugly head again. "I'm so sorry, Ron," he murmured

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, almost out.

"About Ginny...she's been attacked because of me..."

"Harry, I'm tired, so I'm only gonna say this once," Ron said forcefully. "Ginny is older now. She knows the facts. I think she'd be worse off without you than with you...end of story." Ron couldn't think of anything else to say, but his direct answer made Harry believe him, at least until the next time something awful would happen.

Ginny was resilient if nothing else. Harry's jaw dropped when he came out of he and Ron's room to find her sitting up in the common area of the Hospital Wing eating a big bowl of oatmeal, propped up on pillows in his hover chair.

"Didn't think you'd mind," Ginny smiled at him. "I'm not allowed on these things," she indicated her ankles, "for five days."

"How...how do they feel?" Harry asked timidly.

"Mostly numb, but getting better," she answered. Harry admired her bravery and strong spirit. He was beginning to think that Ginny was stronger than he was. He had gone to pieces when he'd been kidnapped, but he had to admit that he'd been rendered a lot more helpless previously which didn't help matters. Maybe she was meant for him, for the girl who wanted to be with him would have to have the strength and will to survive. He couldn't believe she was just smiling at him and telling him to eat and not falling apart. He didn't want her to fall apart certainly, and he was glad she didn't seem to be, because he wasn't sure how he'd handle it anyway.

Ron and Hermione looked exhausted, but for once, Harry felt truly alive, just having Ginny safely back. Everyone was discussing the sure cancellation of the Quidditch match and the ruination of Family Week as a whole when Dumbledore strode in, looking tired, but better than yesterday. Harry had forgotten to mention Dumbledore's fatigue to the Matron in his worry over Ginny, so he was pleased to hear the Headmaster tell her that the potion she had given him last evening had done wonders.

Harry could not believe his ears when Ginny scolded him for being late in taking his potions when she was wounded too. He hurried back to take the potions Madam Pomfrey had laid out for him in the morning. There was just too much going on.

Fred and George came in and took huge plates of eggs, bacon and pancakes, sitting down, very happy about something. With their sister injured and the match cancelled, Harry couldn't see any reason for the change in their demeanour of late from far too serious for them, to smug happiness today.

"What's with you two, Zonko's burn down or something?" Ron asked them grumpily, tired from sleeping mostly in a chair.

"No...nothing that good," they conceded, 'but good all the same." They were even talking at the same time again.

When Dumbledore noticed Harry wasn't eating, he said, " Mr Potter, you should eat, you need your strength young man." Harry obligingly placed one egg and a small portion of bacon on his plate, and stared incredulously as Dumbledore hovered a pancake and a piece of toast onto Harry's plate as well. "Yes, a growing active young man needs a good breakfast...most important meal of the day," the old man smiled.

Harry knew he was not considered active at this time. He didn't know what Dumbledore was up to, so he nearly dropped his fork when Dumbledore said simply, "Yes, a Seeker needs his nourishment..."

Harry was so far removed from all his pleasures in life, that he did not cotton on right away what the Headmaster was trying to tell him. Harry Potter would be playing Seeker in the first game of the season as always! He choked on his eggs that he'd been trying to eat to appease the Matron.

"You mean it, I can play!" His excitement lasted only minutes as he looked over at Ginny, Gryffindor Seeker for the past months when Harry was barred from the game, but she was smiling at him encouragingly, genuinely happy for him. Harry had to look at the Matron to see if this was some sort of joke, but although her mouth was set in a grim line of disapproval, she did not contradict the Headmaster's permission. In fact, Mr and Mrs Weasley, wearing the same disapproving look as the Matron, none-the-less came in to offer Harry their support.

"That is of course if you accept the position?" Dumbledore beamed at Harry. Harry knew that Dumbledore felt that he owed him something, and he wondered if this allowance was just a show of faith from Dumbledore, a means of making up for keeping so much from him. A way to give something back that had been so cruelly taken away.

"Go on then Harry, tell them or Fred and George'll faint from suspense...but only if you feel you want to luv," Ginny encouraged him gently. As soon as Harry agreed, the twinkle that had been absent for so long in Dumbledore's deep blue eyes returned, but then, quite suddenly, Harry changed his mind.

"I want to stay here with Ginny," he stated flatly.

"Well then you'll be here alone, Harry James Potter! I'll be out there rooting for Gryffindor and booing the Slytherins!" Ginny told him firmly. This girl had spunk.

"I'll do it," Harry confirmed.

"Brilliant!" yelled Ron.

"Ta Da!" the twins shouted in unison, producing Harry's Quidditch robes, which were neatly pressed. Harry looked at Mrs Weasley and mouthed the word, 'thanks," to her. The twins had never ironed in their lives, magically or otherwise. Mrs Weasley nodded in confirmation that it had been she who had ironed and mended his robes after the scuffle with Draco Malfoy last year. Harry could easily have afforded new Quidditch robes, but somehow, the idea that someone had actually sewn something for him, made these robes just that much more special. These would be his robes for the rest of his days at Hogwarts, how ever long that might be...

Harry felt all the familiar pangs of anticipation doubled. He knew he was far from top form and he knew that special arrangements had been made for the match just for him. The bludgers would be foam, just like in the match for recreation of the other night. Harry couldn't argue. He knew he couldn't take a bludger attack just yet, but he felt it might diminish some of the crowd's enthusiasm of the game. He didn't know how wrong he was.

Madam Pomfrey put Harry through a thorough examination, and Harry smiled as she did something to him like he had done to her the previous night...tell him his job. "Now Harry, just concentrate on that snitch thingy and stay well away from anyone who looks dangerous and don't fly too face or hit the ground..." and the list went on, but the Matron after all, had listened to all of his ridiculous instructions last night, so he was polite.

In private, Ron asked Harry if he was sure he wanted to do this. Harry took the question as a lack of confidence in his anxiety about his performance as he was feeling very inadequate for the task. He hadn't played competitive Quidditch for at least half a year.

Harry took it as his job to see to it that Ginny was comfortable in the stands, though Angelina was nervously awaiting to give her team a pep talk. Mrs Weasley had already more than fussed over her daughter for the trip to the pitch in Harry's hover chair, but she knew that Harry needed to feel like he was doing something for her. Ginny smiled at him as he placed a Warming Charm around the chair and kissed her, before she told him to get going and make her proud. He liked the sound of confidence in him that rang cheerfully from her lips to his ears.

"Alright Harry?' Ron asked. His friend looked awfully pale under his determined expression.

"Yeah, I'm fine," though to say he had misgivings would have been a huge understatement.

If there was one part of the pep talk Harry didn't need, it was Angelina telling him that if they lost it was okay. Where had the old Angelina gone, the one who acted very much Oliver Wood in his manic desire to win every time? That was the Angelina he needed now. Sensing this, Fred piped up, "Just get that snitch for our little sister!"

"So, no pressure there," Harry saidt.

Harry didn't want to look into the stands, but he found himself drawn to look anyway by the sheer excitement of the crowd. Hermione and her parents and Neville and Luna and Luna's father and Gran all sat together, and Harry found himself scanning the crowd for Hagrid, for no word had come from him as yet. The most embarrassing concession in this game, since it for show as well as points, was that for the first time ever, replacements would be allowed for injured players during the game. Harry knew this would never had been put into place if he hadn't been playing and he suddenly wished that he hadn't accepted. This was just not Quidditch.

If Harry could have known what an honour everyone felt just to be flying with him again, he may not have felt so humiliated. He did get a good laugh when Draco Malfoy's attempt to tease the less affluent members of the Gryffindor team about their 'homemade brooms,' backfired on him miserably when he saw just how majestic they looked.

A severe case of cold feet hit Harry hard and again, Ron was asking him if he was sure he wanted to do this.

"Yeah, I just need a minute," Harry stammered. He had never really fully appreciated just how loud the crowds could be. If he could have fed on the love of the parents in the crowd alone who had believed in him for some time, it would have boosted him greatly, but Harry still had the memories of all the people who thought him mad for saying that Voldemort was back. He was suddenly glad that Dumbledore had not mentioned to anyone outside the order, that Harry had a hand in finding the Fifth House. He may have been degraded back down to a nutter with how fickle people were.

It felt like he'd just been hovering for an hour, unable to get his thoughts straight and even Fred and George knew better than to tease him about it.

"Harry, mate, no one will be mad if you change your mind. There's always next game..." Fred offered in support, giving the very pale boy a graceful way out. "We'll just tell them you weren't ready yet..."

The truth was, physically, Harry felt very ready, but there was a major dragging factor at work here. He thought he'd convinced himself that he was fine in Family Week without parents or Sirius, but now he would be demonstrating something that he did best...and they weren't here. The fabricated words of Daily Prophet reporter Rita Skeeter rang in his mind from the interview she had with Harry in his fourth year when she had asked him about his parents...he had never replied, but her magical quill kept writing anyway to write a quote from Harry. ... "I know they're proud of me and that nothing will happen to me, because they're watching over me..." He couldn't deny, that on several occasions, he had wished they were, or felt they were. It stood to reason that if they loved him, and he had been absolutely assured of this, that if there was any possible way for them to watch him today, they would. Just knowing this did not take the lump in his throat away, but feeling the need for love, made him look over to Ginny automatically... She was looking worried and beckoned him over for a moment.

"Oh come on!" shouted Malfoy in frustration. "Let's get going so I can mop the court with Potter and be done with this ridiculous match. Angelina looked almost reluctant to comply with Harry's apparent need to see Ginny. It would count as a time out, because Madam Hooch had been about to blow the whistle. Angelina and the captain of the Slytherin team had already shook hands. All of Harry's team mates looked extremely worried, but Harry couldn't help it. In a way, the fact that Angelina was not coddling him, made him feel a bit more confident. She reminded him in her very Oliver Wood way, that time outs were a precious commodity and for him to get his butt in the air pronto.

He reached Ginny and hovered just above her. "Harry, what is it?" Ginny asked as Mrs Weasley tried and failed to look like she wasn't listening.

"N...nothing...I'm fine," he lied through his teeth to someone who would surely know better instantly.

"Harry, you've wanted this since September, now you have it, so go for it."

"Yeah, but this was supposed to be your spot for this game and I know how much you wanted to show Bill and Charlie your abilities..."

'You're feeling sorry for me? Harry James Potter, I will not have that. You go and kick some complacency into those Slytherin gits for me!" She commanded.

Doing this for Ginny put a whole new spin on things for Harry. A new purpose. He'd never been able to show off for her. He'd, for the most part been recovering in a bed since they had started dating, so with this new prospect in his mind, he looked into her eyes and smiled for the first time. She was so non judgmental. Of course she'd want him to win, but if he didn't...oh no, now that he was doing this for her, the pressure was really on!

"Okay, Ginny. This one's for you...unless we lose, and then well..." Harry stammered.

"Just go have some fun, Harry...you deserve it," Ginny smiled in a way that made Harry feel for the first time in months, that he did deserve to have some fun, so he approached the game with a whole new attitude now. No pep talk from any Quidditch coach could have done for him what Ginny had just done.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game began with Lee Jordan training the announcer for next year, none other then Collin Creevey. Of course with Lee as commentator, all Collin got to say was, 'right you are Lee,' and 'yes, that was spectacularly bad luck!' and such.

The game didn't seem to have the same pizazz as a regular match where the bludgers were made of iron and could really do damage. Some of the Slytherin players actually had quite a rousing side game of catch with them instead of beating them away. Malfoy looked almost bored and Harry had to agree. He had to catch that snitch and end this. It just wasn't Quidditch and he knew he was the cause of it, plus after the snitch had been alluding him for over an hour, Harry was horrified when the Matron called time out. It was time for his potions. Why in the world had he agreed to this? He would not to admit to anyone that he was tired, though they could plainly tell and his back was beginning to really give him trouble.

The Slytherins made quite a show of the time out by doing little skits of bandaging up their 'fallen comrades,' and pretending to have to Enervate them and stuff while the Gryffindors did their best to ignore them. Malfoy was sitting down on the bench looking very sneaky as usual, but for him, it was hard to tell what he was up to. He always looked that way.

Madam Pomfrey fussed over him so much, that Harry found himself picturing a boxing match where the trainer finally throws in the white towel when the fighter cannot go on, but she gave him permission to continue, despite knowing he was taxing himself. Once in the air, Malfoy was the last to be seen lifting off from near the chest that contained the balls. Come to think of it, it had been very unusual not to have seen the snitch at all during the match yet.

The score was forty to sixty for Slytherin, but when Ron blocked two consecutive Quaffle throws, and minutes later, Angelina scored right after Katie Belle had scored, the game tied up and the Slytherins seemed to finally start paying attention, looking to Malfoy to do something more and more as Gryffindor's score climbed higher and higher.

Ron blocked out the Slytherin's chanting of "Weasley is our king' admirably, but what he had heard of the new 'improved' lyrics, he hoped Harry would not hear. The words were cruel and included the words orphan and Mudblood lover, but Ron couldn't distinguish the rest of it. Lee Jordan had taken to humming into the microphone in a harmony with Collin, trying to spare Harry having to hear the crude song. Ginny could hear it though, and angry tears welled in her eyes. Would Harry never have a moment's peace?

Harry ignored, or blissfully didn't hear the cruel song, for he had just spotted the snitch. Nothing else would take his focus, not even the strange gagging sounds now coming from the Slytherin stands. Harry could not see the multitudes of Slytherin supporters frothing at the mouth with bubbles and hair balls, and not even Professor McGonagall could not admonish Lee Jordan for triumphantly announcing, "Well that'll shut up those ruffian Slytherins for awhile!"

"Right you are Lee!" cried Collin Creevey, happy to be able to stop humming to drown out the rude Slytherins. McGonagall was leaning so far forward in her seat now that the crowd could see that Harry was in pursuit of the snitch, that she nearly tumbled forward in her excitement. He was so close, but even she cried out in surprise when he had the tiny ball withing his grasp and suddenly let it fly right through his fingers.

"And Potter was on top of the snitch, and it gets away! Easy does it there potter, concentrate." Lee coached, though he was supposed to be neutral. Fred and George batted the rubber bludgers, which still packed enough wallop if aimed correctly to knock someone off course, straight at Malfoy's head with all their might, for Malfoy had a malicious grin on his face, as he too saw the snitch. Harry looked horrified as Malfoy closed in on the tiny glimmering gold ball. He looked at Harry and closed his fist in mock victory, squeezing his own hand with all his might as if crushing something, and only Harry knew what that would be. Malfoy had switched the Golden Snitch ball for a real live Golden Snidgette, the endangered bird for whom the gold balls had been named. Harry wanted to win, but he would not catch the bird. Most often, the act of catching the delicate bird in one's hand, killed the creature instantly and with victory taken from him, Harry chased after Malfoy, who likewise chased the bird. No one had any idea at all what was going on and some feared that Potter was going after Malfoy for revenge.

"And Potter lags behind Malfoy who has spotted the snitch! Come on Harry, catch and grab that ball!" Lee was screaming himself hoarse. Even Ron had to wonder what his best friend was doing. Had he gone nuts with revenge for Ginny...or himself? Was he going to exact revenge or something right here in front of all of these people?

Ron cringed, flying as fast as he could, leaving the hoops unattended for the Slytherins to score freely on to get to Harry before he did something he would regret. Why didn't he just grab the ball and be done with it? Fred and George had done likewise, but Harry and Malfoy were used to their own brooms and so, try as they might, no one could catch the two of them. Angelina was freaking out, ordering Ron back to his post to guard the hoops which had been scored on three more times despite Katie Bell's valiant attempts to stop the scores.

"Slytherin in the lead one hundred to eighty! We sure could use that snitch...I mean, Gryffindor's only hope is to catch the snitch, earning them one hundred and fifty points," he explained to the crowd, many of whom had never seen a Quidditch match before.

Harry was dizzy with the pace of the flying in and out of the bottom of the stands, almost fetching up on a support post at one point. He closed his eyes dipping down to avoid it and felt the wood create wind in his hair. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't catch the bird, and if he called time out to explain what was going on, Malfoy would kill it, and win the game. Harry had seen him weasel out of too many crimes to think this would be any different. 'Honestly Professor, I had no idea it was a real bird..' Malfoy's sure claim of innocence rang in Harry's ears, angering him to no end. Harry was not supposed to tackle anyone, but it was a mere penalty in the game...back at the Hospital Wing, would have to be another matter, where he was certain to be given severe trouble for doing any damage to himself, but he had no choice.

Just as Malfoy's fingers were about to encase the tiny helpless bird in a death blow of victory for the Slytherins, Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself for the pain that he knew would come. He rammed into Malfoy full force unexpectedly from the left side, knocking the Slytherin off course and giving the snitch, who seemed to be slowing down, time to fly off again. Harry had knocked the wind out of himself, but he sat on the broom, eyes shut for only a moment concentrating hard on regaining his breath, when Malfoy rammed him back full force, using the f polished handle of his broom as a battering ram to hit Harry squarely in the chest. Harry gasped as the unmistakable sound of breaking ribs sounded from deep in his chest. Malfoy then cocked his fist and drove it into Harry's temple, sending the seeker in a spiral straight to the Earth.

Harry shook his head, pulling up just in time to avoid hitting some stands of spectators below and despite Lee Jordan calling, "Foul! Foul! Foul!" and Madam Hooch's whistle blowing, he kept zooming toward Malfoy looking completely insane.

Harry vaguely heard shouts of, "Harry stop! He's not worth it!" Fred and George had teamed up to catch up and put an end to this madness, but Harry ducked below them just as they had reached him, ripping his Quidditch robes right off his back, as he kept going. The twins regrouped to try again, no longer caring about the game. Still, no one knew what was about to happen.

A piece of his red Quidditch robes hung uselessly about his neck, still tied in a clasp, and Harry knew what he had to do. Undoing the clasp, Harry took his hands of his broom and chest for a minute gasping for air and making a small open pouch out of the material. Malfoy grinned in Harry's direction and reached again for the golden snidgette. Harry could only take shallow breaths now, but he sped off in Malfoys' direction once again, pouch open and felt a small thud as something was caught into it. Malfoy rammed him once more full force, but Harry didn't have any more fight in him left to retaliate, so he flew away. Malfoy, not realising that Harry had the bird proceeded to make fun of the boy for running away and some of the Slytherins in the stands roared with laughter. Ginny couldn't watch anymore. She buried her face on her mother's shoulder as Mr Weasley made his way to the landing area to be there when Harry touched down. Madam Pomfrey was running there too.

Madam Hooch was beside herself. Never in the history of Hogwarts had there been such an ugly display of brutality! Even Lee, for the first time ever, fell silent, not knowing what to say at all. This one would go down in the books for sure.

Before Harry would let anyone even so much as touch him, he reached into the bag before touching down so they couldn't pull him off his broom to take him away and pulled out the tiny bird, who was slightly ruffled, but very much alive. Only those who were nearest Harry could see what it was, and even a few of the Slytherins seemed surprised to see the bird. Harry held it gently but firmly in his hand as Lee flew into a frenzied announcement that Harry Potter had caught the golden snitch and Gryffindor won two hundred and thirty to one hundred and thirty!

"Bloody hell Harry!" Ron swept down next to Harry, catching the off balance boy in his arms. "What the hell were you doing out there? You could have been killed!" Then Ron, sounding just like his mother, fell silent upon seeing the tiny bird. Malfoy landed before any of the adults could get there and was taunting Harry for not showing the crowd what they had come to see, a real man's game of Quidditch, where blood had to be spilled, not this watered down version created by mere women.

Ginny opened her eyes, lifting her head at the announcement that Gryffindor had won. She didn't care about that. She just needed to know how Harry was. Fred and George had blocked the view of the approaching adults just as Ron cocked his fist and drove it into Malfoy's midriff, causing him to fall the ground. It was too late for any of Malfoy's team mates to retaliate as the adults burst onto the scene demanding to know what was going on.

"The ball...wasn't...ball...see?" Harry said, feebly holding up the struggling bird as proof. Madam Hooch confiscated the bird placing it in a cage she had conjured for evidence later. "I couldn't catch it with my hand without hurting it and Malfoy knew...he was...he said he was...showing them what a real game of Quidditch should look like."

"Oh really," Mr Weasley said angrily, looking like he would like nothing better than to thrash Malfoy himself. Madam Pomfrey ordered everyone to give Harry some air, what he could get of it anyway. She made him lie still as she examined him.

Harry closed his eyes after she had given him a Calming Potion and he felt himself smile as Madam Hooch tried to figure in all the fouls including his against Malfoy and still declared Gryffindor the official winner. He hurt terribly, but he had done it. He had won fairly in front of Ginny. He yelled out rather loudly as he was levitated onto a stretcher in pain, but he felt happy.

"Harry mate, are you alright?" Ron asked anxiously, very pale.

"Of course I'm not alright!..." Harry mumbled in a half whisper... "I'm bloody brilliant!" and with that, he passed out cold.

Ron took his friend's hand, looking down upon him smiling, and said, "You really are a nutter, you know that don't you?" He was surprised to find his voice cracking at this point.


	45. A Kiss Is Not Just A Kiss

As Harry was taken to the Hospital Wing, Professor Snape strode onto the Quidditch Pitch, and without a word, hauled Draco Malfoy to his feet unceremoniously and dragged him off toward the castle. The Gryffindors didn't bother to change their robes as they rushed off after Harry to the Hospital Wing, only to be stopped at the doors and told to wait outside by the very upset Matron. She let in the Weasleys and Hermione however, just far enough into the main waiting area, then Harry was whisked off to a cubicle. Ginny was questioning her brothers severely about how they had failed to catch and stop Harry from getting hurt, but she stopped berating them when they explained that Harry had evaded them to save the bird. It was the first Molly had heard of the real bird being out on the pitch as well.

"That boy!" Mrs Weasley sobbed, "has got to stop trying to saving everything that comes along in his path!" But she sounded proud.

Everyone was truly astounded to find that Snape had locked Draco Malfoy in his dungeon for questioning later. Snape strode into the Hospital Wing without even looking at anyone and muttered to Ron, "Mr Weasley, fifty points from Gryffindor for fighting," before going to Madam Pomfrey to see if he could be of some assistance.

"That man has a dual personality," mused Mr Weasley, but he did not argue with the punishment on his Ron's behalf. There were more pressing matters at hand of course. As worried as Ron was about Harry, he had barely heard Snape's words anyway. Astoundingly, it was Professor McGonagall, who'd only just arrived in time to hear Snape's ridiculous remarks, who righted the situation with one fell swoop.

"Three hundred points to Gryffindor for saving an endangered species!" she announced huffily, loudly enough for Snape to hear if he cared to. She strode into Harry's room without hesitation.

Madam Pomfrey Enervated Harry, but when Harry's first sight was Snape's long nose looking down at him in a sneering manner, he closed his eyes again against the pain in his chest and the rest of his body as well. Snape's face, did not reflect his words. He looked shocked and disturbed by what had happened, but said nothing but to ask the Matron what she would be needing for him. Snape knew better than to scold Harry in front of the protective Matron, who, if he had been in better shape would have been scolding him herself.

Harry knew very well that Malfoy had deliberately hit him in the chest, knowing that his ribs were still not fully healed and would break again easily. He was quite certain that Malfoy had succeeded in splintering them into a million pieces judging by the way he felt. The only saving grace for Harry, was that he knew Madame Pomfrey would fix him up quickly, without much pain. For the moment though, he struggled against unconsciousness.

Not even Dumbledore himself could have imagined what would happen out of the Quidditch match that he'd given Harry permission to play in. Dumbledore seemed to regret having let Harry play now, for it was when Harry was weak and vulnerable that he was most at risk from attack by Voldemort on his mind.

The new wards around Hogwarts could prevent Harry from being taken bodily, but somewhere out there, not far from the castle lurked the Dark Lord, waiting to do his evil bidding, determined to see the war end in his favour before the cold of the winter would give up it's last frost. Voldemort had been warned in summer by Dumbledore through Tyler's snake, that a duel with Harry then, would end in his demise, but now with some new felt urgency, the Dark Lord needed swift victory. Dumbledore hoped that this new drive in Voldemort would lead to his making mistakes and buying the boy more time, but what happened next, made him know this was not to be.

As Madame Pomfrey sedated Harry and began to mend his injuries, Harry's back arched in agony, despite her best efforts to keep him quiet and comfortable. This was a relatively easy injury to fix with magic.

The last time Harry had begun thrashing around as if he were being attacked, he had appeared asleep to those witnessing the horrible mind attack. It was more terrible to look upon for everyone, including, and especially Snape, who was thrown by hand force by Dumbledore out of the room when Harry's eyes suddenly opened in gut wrenching pain and agony and looked at those surrounding him with his own eyes as well as the Dark Lord's eyes. Had the Dark Lord seen the hooked nosed Potions Professor trying to help the Harry? Would Voldemort see it as anything but doing his duty as a loyal spy or would he learn tonight that one he thought wholly loyal, in fact was against him for years now?

When Ginny heard Harry scream out so violently and saw the Potions Professor slam into a divider wall after having been pushed by the Headmaster, nothing could have stopped her from going in there. The only thread of whatever it was, for it could not be called decency, for Ginny from the Dark Lord, is that he did not use Harry's voice to speak to her when she burst in. Harry's lips were moving, but it was not his voice that came out. Ginny did not drown out the voice as she so wanted to, but she looked instead into Harry's eyes, which changed from Green to red from one second to the next. When they were green and the voice of Voldemort used his voice, Harry looked beyond terrified. He screamed at Ginny from inside of himself while Voldemort paid him no heed.

"Ginny, please! Get out! Get out!" Harry's green eyes welled up with tears as he fought against the pain and his losing battle.

It was not Voldemort who felt the shackles wind their way around his wrists and ankles and the Matron cried out for Dumbledore to stop as he placed heavy chains across the boy's battered torso as well. Harry could feel Voldemort's desire to want to rise up to touch Ginny...but Harry felt a sick rage inside his own body...Voldemort found her attractive! If Harry was in charge of his own stomach, he would have vomited in agonizing distress. Why did she have to run in here? He knew her...Tom Riddle knew her, and what was more, he had 'met' her when he was very close to the age Harry was now.

Ginny could not feel repulsed looking upon Harry, but those eyes, when they were red, when Voldemort was winning, made her feel for all the world like the little girl in the Chamber Of Secrets years ago when Riddle had possessed her. Had her love for Harry not been so strong and founded in both plutonic and desiring love, she would have bolted from that room into the arms of her parents and family waiting outside, who were now officially shut out by a barrier placed by Snape.

It seemed that neither Dumbledore nor the Matron could do nothing to help Harry, but Dumbledore spoke to Tom in the hopes of confusing and distracting him so that Harry could fight and push him out.

"'Tom, let him go. You and I both know that you can't actually kill the boy this way. You are weakening the both of you, and you have no one who can build you back up to be whole like he does, you know this," Dumbledore explained to Tom, for he didn't for the moment seem like Voldemort. He seemed confused by his desire for something Harry had and he was intrigued by it. Having been without body for so long. It was beyond interesting to Voldemort to find that the boy he hated and wanted dead, had something he desired, besides the obvious prophecy fulment.

Dumbledore was beyond reluctant to let Ginny stay, but he knew there was no way he could make the Harry fight as hard as Ginny could. There was something that had changed about Harry, ever since Ginny had come into the room. Ginny hadn't even noticed that in her panic to reach her beloved, she had walked on her injured ankles.

A sense beyond repulsion rocked Ginny to her soul when Harry's hand came out and touched hers and he whispered in Tom's voice. "I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude my lady..." Ginny's legs felt suddenly warm and the bandages around her ankles unwound to reveal perfectly healed achilleas tendons!" she would have cut her own legs off in revulsion of Tom's 'gift' if she'd had time, but this action signalled just how much strength Voldemort had gained over Harry's battered body in just minutes.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Ginny stifled a gag and sat next to Harry when those emerald green eyes returned shining with tears of fear, pain and humiliation. She knew she would not have long to act and she didn't care who was watching.

"Harry," Ginny pleaded in little more than a whisper, "kick him out of your mind love...for me. I can't think of anything else to do, so..." She placed her lips firmly against his, looking into those eyes that were still so green, and kissed him like this was the last kiss left in all the world. She knew what she was risking, and she hoped Harry would too. He could not, he would not, let Voldemort feel this...this warm all encompassing kiss, the smell of the balsam in her hair, her hand on his temples, something he had always craved with every pang of pain in his scar...he needed to kick Voldemort out now! Ginny was not for Tom.

A fitful jealous rage flew into Harry like none he had ever known in all his life. He could hear Voldemort laughing, knowing that Harry could not rid himself of his presence so easily and that thing which the Dark Lord desired would be his, if only for a kiss...for now.

'No!" Harry yelled in his own hoarse voice. He was figuring out rapidly that Snape had it all wrong. Rather than to clear his mind, Harry needed to fill it. Fill it with all the love he had. Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, Hagrid, Dumbledore, whom he could hear chanting quietly in the distant background, and Ginny...most of all now, Ginny, body, mind and spirit. Harry could begin to feel the kiss more strongly and the warmth of her hands and he could feel her tears of fear and panic falling onto his own cheeks. For one moment, Harry's body arched up and Ginny felt him go limp as the kiss died away from his lips. Voldemort was gone.

Dumbledore unshackled Harry, who was now out cold. A peace was evident in his face, though Voldemort had managed to get in a few of his own blows to the boys pale features. Tears sparkled in Ginny's eyelashes and did not fall as Madam Pomfrey began once again to mend the injuries Malfoy had inflicted on him. Snape returned, looking ashen faced. He stared at the red headed girl with an unfathomable expression on his hawk like face. When he did not demand that she leave, which she was resolute she wouldn't comply with anyway, she sat next to Harry once more, keeping just enough distance so as not to interfere with his treatments. He did not stir.

Harry could hear the bustling voices in his room and he could feel Ginny's reassuring presence beside him. The last attack like this had left him fearful and hopeless, but this time there was something else...hope. His brain was taking a break from his aching body as he thought over what had happened. Voldemort could not stay while Harry was thinking about Ginny, even though the Dark Lord had felt a desire to feel her warm lips on his newly untouched ones. He couldn't reach her. Harry would not permit it...so he would not be able to reach Harry anymore either.

Harry had always known that his Occlumency lessons were missing some very big component as it had failed him miserably in his fight to block out the Dark Lord's thoughts. Now, not only he block out his thoughts, but his desires as well. He was strengthened by this girl, this girl who had loved him for years, but now Harry knew he must fight harder to prevent Voldemort...or Tom as he had reverted back to for a second, from ever getting near the physical Ginny Weasley ever again. There was more at stake than just death now, but with the added anxiety, came a new strength, given to him by Ginny...started most certainly by others who had loved him, but finished by the missing piece of the puzzle, the girl he now knew he loved and always had.

After the Matron and Snape had done all they could do for Harry and Dumbledore was assured that he would live, the old headmaster slumped into a chair, feeling guilty for the shackles he'd had to place on the boy so he wouldn't harm anyone or himself. Madam Pomfrey led the old man to a cubicle to lie down and for the first time he didn't argue. Even Snape seemed very alarmed at this. Before leaving, she had touched Ginny's shoulder and said, "stay with him."

Dudley had been as horror stricken upon hearing his cousins agonised screams echoing around the hospital wing as any of them, but it brought home to him how much Harry had endured all his life, and being Dudley, he also felt sorry for himself for having to hear such repulsive things. The Weasleys waiting with him felt alien to him, even Mrs Weasley could not whole heartedly try to comfort the terrified looking boy. He clearly needed to see what Harry was up against to make him understand why Harry could not so easily forgive him. Dudley had been heard complaining that he'd made a change and that Harry was deliberately making his apology difficult.

Dumbledore, for the first time anyone could remember, was given several phials of potion and instructed to rest in his chambers. The headmaster would not agree unless assured in a manner he could believe, that he would be informed immediately about any change in Harry's condition, which at the moment, physically anyway, was stable.

Ginny held onto Harry's hand for her own sake as well his. She was still shaking as she looked down at her own ankles, pulling up her robes to see the perfectly smooth skin of ankles which had not seen any injury at all. When Snape was satisfied that all was as well as it was going to be for the moment, he swept from the heavily guarded rooms and went to see about his errant student. Malfoy would pay dearly, and pay dearly he did, but not at the hands of Snape, who had returned to Hospital Wing, carrying the now screaming Draco Malfoy, who was trailing blood from his feet so much that his trainers fell off as Snape placed him down on a bed and bellowed for the harassed looking Matron.

Thinking that Snape had injured the errant child, Madam Pomfrey was about to reluctantly summon the headmaster from his bed chamber where she had only ordered him moments ago. Draco was screaming in a way that made even the most hardened against him feel pity. Even Fred felt himself swallow a lump in his throat wishing it would stop.

"Severus! What did you do to the boy!" Madam Pomfrey screamed, removing the torn bloody socks from the teen's feet.

"I assure you," Snape argued, "that I did not do this to the boy."

The only one other than Snape that anyone could think of who would have done such a thing, was Mad Eye Moody, who likewise objected to the accusation. After all, it hadn't even been he who had turned Draco into a Ferret and bounced him around for misbehaving in their fourth year. He was a firm believer in capital punishment, but even he would not perform such cruel punishments.

"Okay, Draco, try to calm down and tell me what has happened," Madam Pomfrey soothed, as Draco drew a sharp shuddering breath to describe what had taken place.

"I...was just sitting there, in Snape's office, when I heard warnings...like stay away from her and stuff and then, I felt my robes lift and an invisible blade sliced across my heels..." Draco was sobbing out loud and gasping in fearful breaths of air, looking around him as though at any moment he may be attacked again by the unseen evil.

Listening in, the Weasley's couldn't believe what they were hearing. Draco was the son of the one of the most loyal Voldemort supporters of all. Why would the Dark Lord attack him...if indeed it was he who had done this. For one moment, not one of them could deny that they had a flickering thought that maybe, just maybe it was Harry who had done it. He was growing in power daily and was marked as Voldemort's equal and if Voldemort could attack people from a distance, it stood to reason...but only for a moment. Hermione spoke out at that moment. "Harry's not that cruel. He wouldn't do that," she stated flatly.

"Hermione, Malfoy's just pummelled the guy. Don't you think Harry would want to get him back for that and what everyone knows he did to Ginny?It's kind of fitting that the same punishment has been dealt to him as he did to Ginny, isn't it?" Even Hermione could not argue the logic in Ron's point, but in her heart, she knew that Harry would never have gone this far...so who had?

Madam Pomfrey gave Draco a calming and pain relief potion as she mended the same wounds she had tended on Ginny just yesterday. Draco would not respond to the potions so she was forced to silence him with a potion for a dreamless sleep. Everyone felt their shoulders drop just a little in relief of the absence of his screams.

Draco's wounds were not as severe as Ginny's had been, and he would be on his feet tomorrow, but his release from the Hospital Wing would have to be left up to the headmaster.

One by one, Harry's friends and family were able to see him for a few moments each, but Ginny remained steadfastly by his side. Mrs Weasley looked at her daughter tenderly for a moment, before embracing her. She knew now that her daughter's life was now intricately woven into Harry's as much as her youngest son's had been, but in a different way. She was her only daughter, the only Weasley female for a long time. Molly knew now that there was a reason why this relationship had blossomed. The fourth, all important piece of the puzzle had been put into place. It was not a comforting thought, but one that Molly knew she had to accept.

Harry could hear them talking and he felt warm and comfortable. Dumbledore was upstairs, but Harry could hear him...'for he has a power the dark lord knows not...' "BUT I DO!" Harry suddenly shouted, waking up and startling them all. The sudden loud profession caused him to start coughing violently. Ginny raised his head and placed the goblet of water laced with pain reliever onto his lips. Somewhere upstairs, the old man was smiling. Harry had solved the riddle, with the help of someone who was his soul mate, and therin, the power the Dark Lord knew not, lay.

Even Draco's screaming had not woken Harry out of the mind refreshing slumber that had come to him without use of potion after the torturous session of duel of the minds with Voldemort. As they has so often done, his friends all sat silently around his bed for most of the day, waiting for signs of life from him. Once in awhile, Harry's eyes would move under the lids causing Ginny to jump. No one else yet knew what had transpired between them in that room. When his eyes flittered open, Ginny looked away at first, letting Mrs Weasley bend down to peer at him. Molly smiled at him fondly, though he couldn't really see the gesture without his glasses on.

"Mom...what colour are they? Ginny whispered nervously, and feeling supremely ashamed for having done so.

'Why Ginny, what a silly question, they're as green as fresh pickled toads!" Fred stated happily, answering for his mother.

Ginny normally would have laughed or cringed in humour, but now it was odd to see her sigh in deepest relief. It was really him. He'd come back to her, to them. For a minute, Harry just blinked like an owl, not being able to comprehend exactly what had happened to him. Memories of being checked by Malfoy went over in his head, causing him to reach up and touch the tender chest area to see if was caved in. Finding it whole and without tubes sticking out of him all over the place like last time, relaxed him somewhat until the full memories of the horrible afternoon came to haunt him.

Harry suddenly looked straight and Ginny and rasped. "Tom didn't touch you did he?"

'No," Ginny answered quietly. "You stopped him."

"Why did you that? Kiss me then?... You could have been..." Harry could not even say it, for he didn't even want to admit that there were two things she could have been...killed by his own hands had Voldemort broken free or worse, kissed by Tom Riddle. Harry looked angry. She had risked herself for him.

"There was nothing I could do Harry. You couldn't fight him by yourself this time, and Dumbledore said it was different than the last time where Ron and Hermione could help you. He had you Harry, and he wasn't going to let go this time!" Once again Ginny had tears sparkling in her eyes.

Harry knew she was right. He had been losing, but now, through his eyes, Voldemort had seen Harry's desire for Ginny and now she would be more of a target than even before and Harry knew that Voldemort now had more of a reason to capture rather than just kill her to hurt him. Ginny had given him the weapon that had eluded him all his life, or rather she had thrown it all into light for him, for he had always had friends that loved him and would follow him to his grave if necessary, but now he was covered in every aspect of love. It had all come full circle around him, and the Dark Lord did not have and knew not this weapon. Ginny would be the protector of his mind now as sure as any shield or traditional Occlumency, but as a shield, she stood a good chance of being splintered standing before him like she had done.

Harry knew that the fight must come and it must come soon. With Voldemort not able to bother his mind or gain any of his knowledge now, Harry could practice for the fight without fear of having his mind ripped into again, and he would not be made weaker physically by the lashings Voldemort could dole out via his mind connection either. Ginny had truly saved him, for now. She smiled ironically, thinking of all the karate training sessions she'd sweated through near Hagrid's cabin, learning from a book, when it came down to be a kiss that had saved the chosen one.

Harry looked at his wrists where the shackles bindings had bit into his flesh. Madam Pomfrey had cleaned the wounds and dressed them. His mud caked Quidditch robes were gone and he was wearing the familiar hospital pyjamas he'd become so accustomed to. He was so very tired.

As Harry watched each worried face tuned into his every expression, he struggled to find something to say. He wanted to talk to Ginny about what had happened in private later first, so he fumbled for something obvious to say. "Guess we won then eh?'

At this, all the Weasley boys abandoned their thousand questions and talked animatedly about the match, giving Harry their perspective of what they had thought was happening in the match before they'd later found out about the bird. Harry was also very anxious to see Dumbledore about the situation, but when he had asked where the headmaster was, he was told enough to be satisfied, but not about how tired and pale the poor man had been. Harry did not need another burden placed upon him.

As ever, Mrs Weasley asked Harry if he was hungry. Truth was, his chest was hurting terribly, but seeing the eagerness in her eyes, he accepted her offer to make him some light food. Everyone but Ginny left to get something to eat, promising to come right back. Ginny stayed and it was when she stood to hug Mr Weasley that Harry noticed for the first time that Ginny's feet were no longer bandaged and she stood perfectly.

"Ginny...how? Madam Pomfrey said it would be days before they would be a hundred percent.

Ginny went pale. She didn't want to have to say this out loud, but she wouldn't lie to him, so she sat down and whispered what had happened about Voldemort's 'gift' for her having helped him in her first year in the chamber. Harry was mortified. Those words, though not his own, had been uttered by his mouth. He clasped his hand over his mouth horrified. Ginny, tired as she was, took this the wrong way and almost ran from the room crying.

"Ginny, please wait. Don't leave me!" Harry felt like a child thinking that the boogey man would come back or something but he didn't care. She sat back down next to him on the bed, both of them fighting not to fall apart, but taking comfort in each other. Ginny wished that Harry hadn't found out about the healing 'gift.'

"That bastard!" Harry spat, fire in eyes, has nothing to do with you...I won't let him, I swear Ginny..." He whispered forcefully, not caring that he was tearing up in front of her.

"And because of that, I can protect you. It's the risk he poses to me...to us...and your love for me that's going to protect you Harry, don't you see. Our Vulnerability and love makes us stronger. Harry had forgotten for a moment that Ginny knew about the prophecy and now she sat, looking like Hermione when she'd solved a great mystery. Harry had imagined a great sword, a magic wand, a physical weapon that could be wielded by hand, something tangible, but as it turned out, the untouchable love that had saved him in the first place at the beginning of the circle from his mother and of the different kinds of love, had evolved into a shield over him. If he could protect his mind, he knew he could be taught to protect his physical being. His sights were set on rigorous workouts and training fighting sessions. He would be ready when the time came.

"Thank you. I don't know what else to say," Harry said sincerely.

"Then pay me back," Ginny smiled. When Harry looked at her quizzically, she shook her head. Honestly! Boys!" and leaned in for a kiss which she placed carefully upon his cracked lips. He looked in absolute bliss, tired yes, but happy.

"Good night Harry," she whispered as his green eyes fluttered closed and she put her head down on the bed too, to try to catch some sleep before everyone else would be back.

The next morning, still very sore and instructed to stay in his bed even though his ribs had set properly and mended nicely, Harry and his friends listened intently as Hermione gave her theory of what she thought had taken place to displace Voldemort from Harry's mind, based on what Harry and Ginny told her. Both Harry and Ginny exchanged glances, agreeing silently through their smiles to let Hermione have her moment in the sun as she had stayed up all night looking up naturally occurring love charms. They pretended not to know and acted as surprised as everyone else when she revealed her very accurate findings. And all her hard study was not for naught either. They did learn some new things they did not know. Some knowledge, she proved, did have to come from books.

Blushing profusely when Harry and Ginny let her squirm through explaining all the different kinds of love to complete the circle, Hermione finally held up a small book. "This is for the two of you. It's a gift. It's from Ron and I," but Ron denied having anything to do with the book, which was full of stuff Professor Trelawny would love, like strengthening love shields and such. "Oh honestly Ronald, you'd think you'd never kissed before!" she shot him a look like a disapproving teacher. "Anyway, it just explains what I've already told you. As Fred and George said last night at about five o'clock in the morning when they were coming back from who knows where, you're pretty well shot of Voldemort for now, at least as far as the mind attacks go that is, but that's huge Harry, you know it is."

Feeling he needed to answer Hermione right away, Harry thanked her and confirmed that he knew how important this all was to them. His parents, Sirius, The Weasleys Hermione and now Ginny...all the love fit in together to complete the shield that Harry had needed all along.

Dudley stayed conspicuously absent from the Hospital Wing for the next couple of days, when finally , Madam Pomfrey allowed Harry to get up for a short while. She thought Dumbledore was giving the boy entirely too much license to be walking about with his new injuries having added two more to the potions he had to take daily just to get through. As he walked with Ginny and his friends down the corridors of people high fiving him, knowing nothing of what had happened after the match against Slytherin, he felt happy, despite the pain in his chest. He, Harry had the weapon now, and this would carry him through the dark months to come.

They met up with Malfoy who turned tail and ran just at the sight of them, although it angered Harry that Dumbledore and Snape had come to the conclusion that Draco had been punished enough by whatever had taken place in Snape's office on the night of the match. Harry pressed his hands together looking at the slightly white outlines of the words 'I must not tell lies,' forever bonded to his hand by the blood quill Deloris Umbridge had made him write his lines with. That had been severe, but even he had to admit, it was nothing compared to the assault that had been bestowed upon Draco. That the little git still had dance privileges was another matter entirely. Harry would not make waves about it now, knowing that the headmaster had been ill as of late.

With all that had taken place, Harry had found that he was actually looking forward to the dance now, rather than dreading it. His scar hadn't so much as twinged since Ginny had effectively shut Voldemort out of his mind and he had the real feeling that somehow, Voldemort had at least temporarily been weakened by having been pushed out in such a manner. If Harry concentrated hard enough, he fancied he could sense Tom trying to figure out what had happened. He didn't want to dwell on it now. Hadn't Sirius reminded Harry about what a sixteen year old boy should be doing? Not forgetting to live while waiting for something that may or may not happen? The dog star in the star was shining in through a corridor window and though Harry didn't pay much heed or attention to astronomy, he whispered, 'thanks for that Sirius,' and wrapped his arm around Ginny's shoulder, causing him to wince when raising his arm up.

It soon became evident to Harry, that Hermione especially needed to know that in order for Harry to feel and give his love back to his friends, they didn't always have to be only two feet away from him. She knew this was a real shield and she, as one of the people who loved him, was taking it very seriously. Hermione gave him a small little tear filled gentle hug, enveloping Ginny at the same time and apologizing for once again, taking things too literally, as she was always apt to. Ron was so happy to get her to himself again, that he winked at Harry with a smile and a shake of his head, saying 'you know our Hermione,' and led her away for some much needed respite.

Even Ron couldn't help but look back, wondering if this was how Remus or Sirius had felt whenever James and Lily were out of their sight once the death threats had been made. Still, they couldn't be smothered. Hermione, much to Ron's surprise complimented Ron on his cool use of intellect in a crisis situation. He had abandoned the game to save Harry. She was so proud of him. He didn't know what the big deal was, Harry would have done the same for him, but all the same, he accepted her warm kiss of approval gratefully. He was positive that Fleur Delcour, the half Veela, who held certain powers over men, could walk by at this very moment naked... 'no, no, no,' he yelled at himself, that's not the point of this!' He couldn't help but picture it...he was all boy, but if she did, Ron wouldn't even notice her, standing here with Hermione. Ron couldn't believe it when his mind would wander to marrying this girl, settling down. He wondered what she was thinking.

Madam Pomfrey came to check on Harry again, giving him that, "I don't know what I am going to do with you," look. He felt so relieved with the weapon that had been handed to him by Ginny, that all he could do was grin cheekily at the Matron, despite his pain that still came in waves with every breath he took. His scar hadn't so much as twinged since the attack. Voldemort was gone, for now. The next time he would meet the Dark Lord, would be in the physical world, and Harry hoped that it would be under his terms, though he knew this was nothing more than just wishful thinking of an exhausted mind. Madam Pomfrey lifted up Harry's night shirt to apply the healing salve to his chest, and Harry turned a brilliant shade of pink over his paled face as Ginny piped up, "I'll do that for you."

"Very well, Miss Weasley," Madam Pomfrey conceded, brightening Ginny's day more than possibly Harry's. For some reason, he still felt a little self conscious being exposed.

"Oh, don't be a baby, Harry. I'm taking a first aid course now in Charms with Professor Flitwick. He was a field medic in the first war, did you know that?" she talked very fast to distract him from the very cold salve.

"Oooooooh!" he shivered, "That's cold!" though he wasn't sure if the actual shudder was from the medicine or her touch. The evening was over as Madam Pomfrey threatened that they would not be able to go to the dance together if Harry didn't get to sleep, so with that, Ginny kissed him on the forehead to be cheeky and said, 'see you in the morning love!' before stepping lightly out of the room.

Ron came in an hour later, while Harry was still awake and he was remarkably talkative. He announced rather suddenly that he figured he and Hermione would get married after they left school. Harry wondered what Hermione thought of all this, but, he knew Hermione, being logical, wouldn't bother wasting time dating for no end goal, so he thought Ron would stand a chance, if Voldemort gave him one.

"I might ask her to marry me at Christmas," Ron stated, looking to Harry for an answer. It was as if Ron felt hopeless, like maybe no one had much time left and people should do what needs doing now lest they never get to it. War made people feel like that. Harry refused to let any of his black thoughts get in the way of Ron's happy banter, and it was a nice distraction to all the bad news of late.

Harry had to ask the inevitable question. Hermione was a Muggle born. Harry had no idea what the tradition of wizard kind was when it came to marriage, but Hermione would most certainly want a ring, at least for her mother's sake. This is where all of Ron's plans went out the window. He had no money. Harry knew how Ron felt about loans and such, so he didn't know what to say.

"Bugger...I never thought of that. It's going to have to wait 'til we're out of school and I get a job."

"Listen, Ron," Harry said, remembering something that could help. "You know that I inherited Sirius' estate and everything in it, right?"

"Don't even go there, mate," Ron warned.

"I'm not...exactly," Harry maintained, "but I was left everything in the house.

"So..."

"So," the Blacks were filthy rich. There were at least fourteen diamond rings on the list of stuff I got that have all been checked thoroughly for curses or anything unusual and turned up to never having been worn...I'm no Liberace, so naturally, I'll never use them."

"Urg Harry! I couldn' t give Hermione one of those old bat's rings!"

"No," Harry said thoughtfully, "I agree, you couldn't, but you could do me a favour and take them to Madam Swapishe's Pawn Shop and trade them in for me. I don't want them certainly, and you'd get cash back, and if you saw something new for Hermione..."

Ron was very proud. " As a loan only, right?"

"Okay, okay, Harry said smiling, as a loan, but in return I want..."

"What our firstborn or something?" Harry shivered violently at Ron's innocent pun, being able to see Voldemort making such a pact in his tired mind. He shook it off.

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked with concern.

"Yeah, just promise me I'll be uncle Harry to him?"

"You're way ahead of the game there, Harry," Ron blushed. Memories of the Marauders came to Harry and he could picture a proud James asking Sirius to be Harry's Godfather.

"Uncle it is," agreed Ron, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt, Harry would be Godfather to his children. Harry could still not picture his life beyond Hogwarts. Not until he had done what he was destined to do.

Inevitably, Harry dreamed of Sirius and wondered if he'd end up like him with no kids, or maybe, no life to live at all if he lost, but the dream turned happy. Harry knew Sirius was gone, but he enjoyed the dream anyway. Sirius chuckled at him, saying, 'ah, children...just dance first, think of kids later...have fun!'

Harry awoke looking forward to the dance the next morning. Ron had already made his way to breakfast. Harry was contemplating any way at all that he could avoid taking his cane with him to the dance. He had walked entirely without it during the lead up to the Quidditch match, but he knew he had to have just in case. Harry had of course, not been anything but petrified for Ginny's safety when she had been injured, but now that she was fully healed, 'and here I am still limping around like a pathetic drag,' Harry muttered to himself, but now, the thought that she might like to dance haunted him again. He was barely walking now as it was. He would be mortified if he fell again in front of everyone.

As expected, the girls were extremely excited about the dance and insisted in being social and eating breakfast in the Great Hall, where owls were still delivering last minute odds and ends for costumes and such. Many of the experienced wizards were going to do their own hair for the seventies fashions instead of wigs and Professor Flitwick kindly left out many magazines from that era for their interest. Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Harry had spent an evening watching the whole fifties inspired movie 'Grease,' to be sure their costumes matched those of the movie that was popular in the seventies.

Harry had to admit that he was still apprehensive about everything, but someone would have to have paid him not to come, if only to see the hooked nosed Potions Professor dressed up Muggle style from the seventies.

Later that day, Mr Weasley whistled happily for the first time in a long while as he taught Ron and Harry how to slick their hair back, fifties style. "Believe it or not, this hair style became quite a fad even in the wizarding world. You've seen pictures of Uncle Percival..." Mr Weasley paused sadly. Percy had been named after this favourite Weasley Uncle.

Even with all the hair gel, Harry's stubbornly messy hair tried to stick back up, but he still looked very authentic, tall dark and handsome, only now, there was a huge problem. His fringe of hair out in front, usually hid his scar. Now, gelled back, it stood out vividly on his bare forehead. Mr Weasley caught Harry frowning at the scar and smiled at him.

"There we are Harry, just like the picture," Ron's dad said to him, pulling a little tuft forward for him to hide the scar, and Harry felt immediately better. It wasn't as if everyone didn't already know about his scar, he just didn't like to show it off. Arthur turned to fuss with Ron's tee shirt once more and Harry watched the two of them together. Truly, Arthur had just treated Harry just the same as Ron and it had felt pretty good, Harry had secretly thought.

"Can you manage okay, Harry?" Arthur said, handing Harry his costume.

"Sure thing, Mr Weasley," Harry smiled as the older man went to change into his own costume. The tight black jeans fit Harry better than any pair of pants he'd ever had and the plain white tee shirt was simple, covered by a leather jacket. The picture from the movie depicted a cigarette package just over the biceps in the arm of the tee shirt. Harry thought he'd skip that, as cigarettes were not popular among wizards.

Ron was almost identically dressed, which suited the males very well. Everyone was dressed and waiting in the outside area of the Hospital Wing. It was not how Harry pictured picking up his first date, hobbling out to meet her in the hall of his hospital room, but this was how it was. Someday, he thought, I'll show up on a broom, no, a horse and start a date the right way!

Harry saw Hermione first as he looked up. She looked beautiful and Harry smiled warmly at her, telling her she looked nice.

"Come on Ginny, it's a great costume. Stop hiding behind me and show him!" Hermione coaxed. Ginny was standing behind Hermione and Harry could barely see her behind Hermione's poodle skirt.

"Honestly Ginny," George teased his little sister, "If you don't come out, Harry looks so good, we may take raffle him off to the highest bidder and you'll lose out on him."

Ginny stepped from behind Hermione, blushing and feeling very self conscious. Harry's jaw dropped and for some time, he said nothing. Before he found his voice, she figured that he didn't like the costume she'd chosen and was heading for the stairs.

"Ginny, turn around," Harry said huskily. Ginny was wearing the famous 'cat suit' from 'Grease,' and Harry thought she looked more stunning than the actress from the movie. It was skin tight and black and showed curves on Ginny's body that Harry hadn't even noticed before. To say she looked beautiful didn't seem enough.

"Ginny, you look amazing!" Ginny smiled shyly, pleased with Harry's expression which spoke more fluently than his voice at the moment as his eyes roved over inch of her figure.

"Oi! That's my baby sister!" Ron warned, playfully punching Harry on the arm. "Eyes back in their sockets or we'll have to have the Matron put them back in for you." Ginny giggled and came down the steps, taking Harry's offered arm, completely happy at her choice in costume now. She had never felt more sure of his desire for her then she did right now, and she too, received a warning glance from Ron as she checked out Harry's tight fitting jeans.

Hermione, who'd seen Grease several times, beamed at Ron. "You're so authentic!" She hoped that Ron would say something better than that, and for once, he didn't disappoint. He hadn't taken the opportunity to compliment Hermione on how beautiful she had looked at the Yule Ball two years ago. She had been with someone else. Now however, she was all his.

"Hermione! You're gorgeous! Ron exclaimed in awe. She wore a pink poodle skirt with saddle shoes, which Harry thought, but had the good graces not to say, looked a lot like bowling shoes. Hermione wore a stunning white angora sweater with an H embroidered on the shoulder, which accentuated her figure nicely.

The poodle skirt made slight swishing noises as they made their way down stairs to the Great Hall. They were almost to the landing when Madam Pomfrey stopped them in a corridor. "Mr Potter are you sure you are quite well enough for this? That match, among other things really zapped your strength. Before giving Harry time to answer, she took in his costume and how handsome he looked tonight for his date and said, "Don't push yourself too much. You are still recovering. Have a nice evenining."

Harry, who would normally have been embarrassed by such admonishments, took them gratefully. He wouldn't have to dance after all. It was iron clad, until the Matron said, "Of course, it wouldn't hurt you to dance for maybe a few slow ones, but," she said turning to Ginny, "mind you don't let him fall." Harry went beet red as Ginny promised to lead.

"You have my word," Ginny promised the Matron, who at last, seemed satisfied to let him go.

"Ah, Poppy, I see you haven't dressed yet," said Dumbledore, coming up the stairs at a much faster and lighter pace than he would have been capable of just yesterday. He looked much better. Something had changed and Harry wondered if it had anything to do with what had taken place between himself and Ginny the other day when Harry had finally come to understand his weapon.

"Now, I believe these young people have a dance to attend," he smiled and they hurried off before she could change her mind and send Harry back to bed.

"Oh, Albus, surely not me in a costume? I should remain here, ready for any sprained ankles or such," she began to argue. "But then again, I suppose I could keep an eye on Harry and Remus Lupin and Charlie Weasley if I'm there..." she decided, not yet out of earshot of 'the kids,' who all smiled at this.

A/N Okay, so now we all know what the weapon the Dark Lord knows not, is. Remember, this story was written long before the HBP. Up next, the dance! Then it's on to the final battles and the end within the next eight chapters or so and the cure for Lycanthropy is revealed soon! (poor poor Lupin! Alas we thought we knew him!)


	46. Werewolves Of London

As Harry entered the Great Hall, Remus Lupin stood up abruptly and headed for the doors without saying anything to Harry at all, and casting him a very intrusive glance. Harry became alarmed that Remus was still very ill or something, but he looked as well as they'd ever seen him returning so soon after the full moon had waxed. Lupin wore plain wizard's robes, though better than his usual, and when Harry went toward him, he brushed right by like he hadn't seen him, leaving Harry very disappointed. Usually, Remus would have made a fuss over Harry being in costume, comparing him to James and such. Harry felt like he was being stupid, but having never been in costume in his life, even for trick or treat, the fussing would have been welcome.

"Maybe he just needs a moment," Ginny tried to reassure him. 'But if you want to go after him, I'll wait..." Harry decided to give Lupin a little time, from what, he couldn't imagine, but Ginny had waited long enough. Despite this, Harry was careful to lean a little more heavily on his cane than necessary for his current needs.

"That won't work, Mr Potter." Ginny punched him lightly on the arm. "You don't get a kiss like that for not at least trying to dance." Harry just stared at her, open mouthed, surprised by her boldness. Where had shy little Ginny gone? The one who always deferred to others wishes, not any of her brother's however.

"I...well...er. You know Madam Pomfrey," Harry mumbled as Ron snickered behind him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Ronald," Hermione scolded. "You're not going to sit like a bump on a log like you did at the Yule Ball either. I believe you owe me a dance?" And it was like this that Ron and Harry were lead into the dance, looking condemned, but especially proud of their dates.

They took a table already occupied by the Grangers and the rest of the Weasleys. Mrs Granger blushed when Mr Granger told her she still looked the same as the day they'd met. It didn't surprise anyone when Fred and George showed up with the two best costumes there. Their red hair was curled up tightly into a seventies hairstyle called an 'Afro,' with cheesy moustaches down to their chins on either sides of their faces attached to sideburns as fluffy as caterpillars. They both wore identical ghastly bell bottoms, platform boots, and tye dyed shirts with love beads, and they were barely recognizable. Their dates, Angelina Johnson and Katie Belle, looked self conscious in mini skirts and high boots with their hair ironed absolutely flat with daisies in it. The twins who were sporting overly large round glasses, kept making a point to enjoy the skirts fully.

Professor Flitwick was in his glory. Apparently, he had loved the seventies, having had many Muggle friends, and he took every opportunity to show people a picture of himself at a Muggle wedding reception in the seventies, in which he'd been best man. The tacky blue polyester suit with the ruffled shirt, was very distasteful indeed. To this day, little Professor Flitwick still sported the same style moustache and sideburns as he had in the picture from all those years ago. He congratulated the twins, who had become special to him after their fifth year anti- Umbridge charms had impressed him immensely, he being the Charms Teacher after all. Everyone paid tribute to those outstanding 'Afros.'

"These hairdo's are really convenient. A bloke could keep his books in here if he wanted," Fred commented, taking a pik comb from the pocket of the ugly pants to fluff the configuration of hair up even further. Harry made a mental note to re thank Winky for showing them Grease so they didn't end up looking like Fred and George, who looked like they may consider staying like that for a time after the dance just to annoy the Slytherins.

"I'd give a lot to look up the nutter who invented these, though," George stated , holding up the footwear they were originally going to wear... flip flops. "They chaff your toes something fierce."

When Luna and Neville entered, everyone laughed, which seemed to actually please Luna. Each of them had guitars and for some reason, Neville had looked like he had used a small portion of ton tongue toffee to elongate his tongue, which he stuck out every so often causing it to contrast vividly against the weird black and white face make up he wore with a shock of dark black wild hair. He and Luna had come as the rock group, KISS! Any Muggles in the crowd or those familiar with Muggle music at all, cheered loudly, causing even the shy Neville to smile.

Snape arrived looking very surly, wearing a very tacky polyester leisure suit of lime green with brown shoes. It did not become him in the least, and now everyone wondered if he'd ever worn anything but his impeccably tailored robes of black. In the black robes, Snape looked mean, menacing and unflinching. In the leisure suit however, he looked like he lacked authority and it gave him a mousy appearance.

Professor McGonagall also looked much less severe with white bell bottoms and a multi coloured belt tied around her small waist, a turtle neck, and for the first time anyone could ever remember, her hair was down! A green head band held the shoulder length hair from her face. She had worn her hair up in a bun for as long as any of them could remember.

There were hushed murmers when Tonks arrived, and a few of the Muggles in the crowd seemed about to faint. Tonks had morphed herself into a popular singing sensation from the nineteen seventies, who had died from a drug overdose. She hadn't thought of the problems this uncanny look could cause. Order was quickly restored as the Muggles who had only just seen ghosts for the first time this week, were assured that Tonks was nothing of the sort, nor a reincarnation of the singing star.

Harry felt like he was watching a parade. The Weasleys were fascinated, especially Mr Weasley, who loved all things Muggle. Mr Weasley had gotten Molly's permission to go shop in a Muggle retro shop where he had spent an entire hour picking out the perfect outfit, more time than he had spent picking out his wedding suit. He looked like he was going on a Muggle cruise on a luxury liner from the seventies. He had the tackiest white polyester shorts, (which it seemed almost everything was made of back then), a Hawaiin shirt and of all things, flip flops. Everyone laughed when he kept glancing down at the uncomfortable foot gear every time he heard the familiar flap of the rubber hitting his heal with every step.

The biggest surprise was Mrs Weasley. Bill was very proud. His mother and he and Charlie had decided to join Luna and Neville as members of KISS and Mrs Weasley had actually donned the crazy makeup and get up including musical instruments. Bill fit in perfectly with his earrings and long hair that he had just frizzed up out of it's usual pony tail and charmed it to turn black. When they stood next to Luna and Neville, many people got them to pose for keepsake pictures.

Dudley turned up looking absolutely ridiculous, but Harry recognized the Muggle musical artist he was trying to be. Large glasses, purple hat, gaudy suit...Elton John. Harry groaned as Dudley seated himself with Lavender at his table. Lavender seemed miffed. She was dressed as Tenille, from the Captain and Tennile, and she had clearly thought that Dudley should have been the Captain.

Ginny scanned the crowd while everyone talked excitedly about the disco ball that hung on the ceiling in centre of the room and sent prisms of light in every direction. She told herself she was only securing the premises, but she was really looking around for Cho Chang, who she didn't expect would be released for a very long time, or for Moaning Myrtyl, who these days, was venturing out more often than usual. No signs of trouble so far.

Harry saw Lee Jordan receiving instructions on how spin an album. Lee would make a hilarious radio DJ, Harry thought, if he had half the enthusiasm for that as he did for Quidditch commentating. Harry got an idea and excused himself from the table to go speak with Lee, who he now saw, was joined by Collin Creevey.

After speaking to Lee in private for a moment, Harry saw Dumbledore approach the DJ's table and whisper to Lee, who then used the Sonorous Charm to magnify his voice to announce that the headmaster would like to say a few words before the Halloween feast/ Seventies Dance would begin. Dumbledore was wearing a brightly coloured silk shirt, unbuttoned two from the top and he had beads in the bottom of his beard as well as the ends of his very long silver hair. He wore the peace symbol on a chain around his neck and a happy face bandana around his forehead.

As Harry walked back to his table, he marvelled at how free of pain he was this evening. He suspected that Madam Pomfrey had given him a higher dose of pain management potion than usual. He could remember her mumbling when she had given him his morning medicines about something being addictive, but after all, it was just this once.

Harry was relieved when Dumbledore did not go on and on about him being the guest of honour. He merely made small mention of the fact and welcomed Harry back, raising his glass in a toast, which was echoed by, 'here here!' from almost everyone, who did likewise in toast to him. He blushed deeply, lowering his head slightly, but in a good way. It was good to be back.

What made Harry most happy at the moment, was the revolted look on the Slytherin's faces, most of whom had only dressed up so they wouldn't miss anything.

Draco Malfoy could be heard loudly denouncing the ridiculous affair, saying it demeaned everything Halloween stood for, and when he said this, he glared at Harry venomously. Harry's parents had been killed on Halloween night, by coincidence or on purpose, Harry never knew, and he didn't want to think about that now. He noticed that for a guy who didn't like such parties, Draco had still managed to dress up authentic as a heart throb solo star from the seventies, Shaun Cassidy. Draco had let his hair dry naturally, leaving out his trademark hair gel, which usually held his hair slicked straight down to his head. He had darkened his white blonde hair to a golden blond and let it fall loosely to his shoulders in feathered layers, a very popular look for teenagers in the seventies, and one that apparently still had some appeal, Harry noticed with disgust as most of the girls in the room turned to gaze at Draco as if Gilderoy Lockehart had just entered the room.

Luna looked at Harry suddenly. "Ooh Harry, you'd look wonderful with that hairstyle Draco has," she said dreamily, and Ginny couldn't argue. With his dark hair and those brilliant green eyes to frame with hair, he would look very handsome. For some reason, Luna did not cause Ginny pangs of jealousy that other girls could have with the very same compliment.

Dumbledore urged everyone to have a good time, looking directly at Harry and then to the Slytherin family tables, who had so far, mixed very little with the other families. He reminded them all how important it was for everyone to try to be united and then broke off, telling everyone to tuck in.

There were squeals of delight when the house-elves roller skated in, wearing seventies clothing with menus in their hands. Most of the elves still wore their tea cosy's but consented to the roller skates because they looked like fun and they technically weren't considered clothes. Hermione decided to just let it go for tonight and just have some fun, like she had done at the Yule Ball two years ago. Winky looked adorable in her little pink poodle skirt and tiny little cashmere sweater.

After dinner was over, Ron made a mental not to give Harry a beating once he was well enough, for having dedicated a song to he and Hermione. Ron had hoped to get away with as little dancing as possible. Once on the floor though, Hermione felt so wonderful in his arms, that he almost forgave Harry...almost.

No one knew, but should have guessed, that Fred and George had been secretly learning dance moves for the occasion ever since it had been announced, and at first, Katie Bell and Angelina felt very self conscious out on the dance floor with them, but when they were joined on the dance floor by couples trying to copy the moves of the twins, they relaxed a bit. There were delighted echos of 'I remember that one now!' from the Muggles in the crowd and 'what are we trying to do, swat flies out of the way or something?' from some of the wizards who were just not getting the exaggerated moves. The dance was an instant success as the dance floor filled quickly.

Harry and Ginny sat laughing as Professor Dumbledore whirled Professor McGonagall around the floor. Harry didn't dare admit it to himself, but Ginny did seem very pleased to be with him, but there was something a bit wistful about her when watching the other couples swirling around to the music. Even the ungainly Ron was having a slight bit of success spinning Hermione about. The dream Harry had had in the operating room now came back to him, the one where his legs had been missing, and Ginny had been dancing with someone else...his Ginny...was she his? Technically, no one had confirmed this. Just as Harry was about to think on this, Professor Lupin had returned, apparently very much out of his brood of just an hour ago.

Lupin called to Harry in a very friendly manner and he was wearing the coolest costume Harry had seen yet. It was similar to Harry's, though Lupin was wearing silver tipped cowboy boots over his boot cut blue jeans. "What do you think, Harry?" he asked smiling, though still looking sickly after the effects of the full moon and his injuries from the attack. Harry noted, with some confusion, that although much happier, Lupin didn't look as well physically as he had an hour ago. Harry decided to let the uncomfortable look Lupin had given him earlier go, and enjoy things. Harry dismissed the former mood of his friend as maybe just pain or memories flashing back to him, remembering James or something, as he'd so often mentioned his looking just like his father. Harry remembered wistfully the entire unfilled moments of lapsed conversation Sirius had often let go by, just staring at him. Perhaps Lupin had just had one of those moments.

"Don't really have much experience with these sorts of functions myself," Lupin sighed. Harry now realized that of the four Marauders, his father was probably the only one to have attended a Muggle party, and also the only one of them who had come to find his true love, and he would not even be here if James and Lily hadn't married young. Lupin was well liked and respected in the school and it seemed sad to Harry that he didn't have any children of his own. He would have made a wonderful father.

Many people had remained in their seats, despite the rather crowded dance floor, some wondering if they couldn't catch on to the new moves or if they should dance at all. Finally, Mr and Mrs Granger got up to a catchy tune called Y.M.C.A. by a group called the Village People. Before the end of the song, half the school, including Mr and Mrs Weasley, were out on the dance floor, copying the moves happily as their children laughed at them heartily.

Harry had a mischievous streak this evening, as Ron noted, glaring at him, as the next song was also dedicated to he and Hermione, called 'hopelessly devoted to you,' appropriately from the movie Grease, but he had not done this. Ron glared at the twins, who looked back innocently denying everything. Ron half hoped that this being a sappy song, that Hermione, being such a strong young woman would not appreciate the syrupy lyrics, but she glued herself to him and Ron decided that Harry would not get a beating after all.

Ginny did not push Harry to dance and she acted like she was having a good time. Was this her strategy, guilt? If so, it was working, if not, Harry still longed to hold her like Ron was holding Hermione. Harry saw Lupin out of the corner of his eye, give a small nod to Tonks in greeting. They were here for security purposes, but Harry had something in mind. Once again, Harry excused himself to speak to Lee. He had planned to ask for a song for Tonks and Lupin, but found himself asking for one for Ginny as well. Before he could even reach the table to put in his requests, Lee Jordan announced excitedly that the next song was dedicated to Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley from a friend with the message, 'it's about time,' get on with it.

Harry felt very on the spot. He had only just started walking short distances without tiring horribly. He had planned on just swaying with Ginny by their table, not having their names shouted out. The crowd clapped enthusiastically, but the practical Ginny told him that if he was uncomfortable, they could just sit and listen to the song together. Harry was touched by her concern for his pride, but he plucked up all his courage and said, 'may I have this dance? I mean...if you want to...you know I can't...or anything..." he gestured pointing toward the happily swirling couples, "do any of that stuff yet." 'Yet,' he thought. He'd never danced like that in his life.

Harry looked around and noticed that the couples were dancing what is called a waltz. Hermione had told him many of the girls had started to learn this when informed the nature of the dance, and Harry noted with amusement, that nine times out ten, the girls were leading the bewildered boys around the floor.

"I thought you'd never ask," Ginny smiled at him as he instinctively took her into his arms. They didn't twirl, they didn't step around, they just swayed gently to the tune of the Beatles, 'Hey Jude,' by the Beatles who were still a very popular disbanded band to this day. The lyrics of the song washed over Harry, making him wonder who had requested this particular song for he and Ginny.

"Hey Jude, don't be afraid, you have found her, now go and get her...

Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better

For well you know that it's a fool, who plays it cool by making his world a little colder

So let it out and let it in, Hey Jude begin. Don't carry the world upon your shoulders..."

The repetitions of the chorus and versus continued to play in his head as Ginny laid her head close to his chest. The fact that many eyes were still upon them, escaped them both now as Harry closed his eyes, etching into his memory this feeling of Ginny in his arms and the lyrics of the song. He hadn't intended to let things go this far. It was dangerous to even know him, but now Ginny had to be the completion of his love, his weapon as unlikely as it seemed in this war. "Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better..." Someone who knew Harry's insecurities very well had requested this song, and when it ended, Harry found that he didn't want to let go. Ginny took his hand and led him back to their table to rest. Dobby skated over to serve them some drinks.

Mr Weasley had always owned and used, to Mrs Weasleys deep disgust, a Muggle tape recorder, so Ginny was familiar with Muggle music from the seventies and even before that. She blushed deeply, admitting to asking Lee to play a song by the Beach Boys called, 'Don't Worry Baby,' for Harry, but not as a formal request, just a silent bidding between them.

Harry encouraged Ginny to accept the offered dance from Michael Corner who had asked her to fast dance to the Bee Gee's 'Stayin' Alive,' but he sighed in relief when she politely declined.

"Ginny, you know I can't," he trailed off, indicating the antics of her older brothers who had finished 'Stayin Alive' in fine style and were now dancing animatedly to a song called, 'Kung Fu Fighting.'

"Honestly, love. You worry too much. I'm here with you, but when you're better, we're getting one of those disco balls and strobe lights and we're gonna make fools of ourselves all night," Ginny promised him with a smile. Harry hoped so for some reason.

Tonks and Lupin had danced a few times, and since mingling security was the plan, it worked well, until a song started that made most of the colour drain from Harry's face. He recognized that song! Lee had no idea that the song that had been dedicated to Remus anonymously would be offensive. The song, 'Werewolves of London,' began to blare from the speakers, complete with the eery howling... "A oooooooooohh!" Poor Professor Lupin looked like he could have curled up in a corner as the record screeched to a halt, most in the crowd not knowing why. Lee held up the disc looking revolted, but he had forgotten to pick up the needle which screeched a very uncomfortable scratching whining sound as it scraped across the rubber matting. Most of the Slytherins were doubled up with laughter.

Harry was more proud of Lupin than he'd ever been. The man, being security and knowing his duty, stood his ground like the men guarding Buckingham Palace, so famous for carrying on straight faced in the face of great fools who trifled with them. Harry noticed the sadness cross Tonk's face in sympathy for Lupin. The two of them had broken apart awkwardly and resumed prowling around on security detail. Angry indignation could be heard from the students who knew the Professor and liked him very much.

At Harry's table the indignation on Remus' behalf lasted longer as the happy banter that had preceded the incident faded away among the other tables. Even Mrs Weasley vowed that if they ever found out who had slipped that record into play, they would be punished. Lupin had been through enough, and though he assured everyone that he was quite used to this sort of thing, they knew it had still hurt him.

Tonks had made her way back around to their table and greeted them all in a most un Tonks like manner.

"Oh, hello Tonks, Arthur greeted back as Mr Weasley made her children move to make room for Tonks to sit. Small talk was made until Tonks said something that made Harry become very alarmed. She was concerned for Remus.

"Of course I know that what with the time of the month it is for Remus," Tonks began, (which would have sounded funny to all the females at the table had it not been so grave), "that he wouldn't be up to par, but even just after the festivities began, there he was without costume, even though he'd been rather looking forward to this, and ten minutes later, there he is, all smiles and dressed up..." It's just not like him.

"Tonks," Harry said suddenly, feeling very insecure mentioning what was on his mind. "Lupin couldn't have been getting ready when you said he was , because he had already been in the dance hall at exactly the same time."

Tonks drew her wand under the table, everyone else at the table doing likewise. The Grangers looked apprehensive, but thankfully kept it together. Hermione was very proud. This couldn't be easy. No one wanted to tip off the 'Lupin' that was at the other end of the room and Tonks was determined to try not to ruin this evening.

Pretending to be dancing together to a very lively tune called, 'Saturday Night,' by the Bay City Rollers,' Tonks, the twins and Hermione all danced over toward 'Lupin' while the others at the table covered the man with their wands from under the table still. Harry silently prayed in his mind over and over again, 'don't hurt him, don't hurt him...please don't let him be hurt.' No one, including Tonks knew if the man in the Dance Hall was the real Lupin or the imposter.

"Can I see you outside Remus?" Tonks asked the man in a cold commanding voice, quietly brandishing her wand at him beneath her cloak. For one sickening moment, poor Remus, who was the real one and who was not aware of the imposter, thought that his life long phobia was coming true and all the werewolves were being rounded up for imprisonment as a danger to society to be forced to live in isolation.

No one would let Harry out of their sight as Dumbledore stationed Kingsley Shaklebolt closer to he and Ginny, who sat clutching Harry's hand looking like she dared anyone to touch him. He watched as word of the possible intruder spread from teacher to teacher to the younger members of the Order who had been milling about acting like students. Harry would have given anything to hear what was happening out in the hall.

"Remus forgive me," Tonks began. "I need to ask you a few questions." Remus thought he was being asked to leave the dance.

"I knew I shouldn't have come, probably stuck out like a sore thumb looking like I do after a full moon and all, but Harry asked me to come and not just stick to perimeter searches like I was so adamant on doing," Lupin explained, his voice trailing off Tonks did not need to ask him her questions. This was the Remus everyone knew and loved, if not just a bit more troubled than usual.

"I don't know how to say this, Remus, but I think we've got an imposter of you here at Hogwarts," Tonks told him worriedly.

When Lupin confirmed that he had not appeared out of costume at all in the Great Hall like Harry had seen him, a full security team was dispatched to look for 'Lupin.' Dumbledore knew for certain that no one new had entered the castle or grounds this evening, so whoever it was, they had been here as part of Family Week all along.

Lupin searched the Marauder's map that Harry had lent him to watch for possible spies among them. The only guest not present at the Great Hall right now, was Malcolm Edgecombe, Marietta's father, who was here to visit his other daughter Dainara, and who had been heard loudly criticising Lupin for not being able to get him permission from Dumbledore to visit Marietta in her confinement for having kidnapped Harry. There had been much grumbling from Order members about any sibling of Marietta's continuing at Hogwarts, but in the end Dumbledore insisted that punishing a person for the crimes of another was unjust. Malcolm Edgecomb had been investigated as a Death Eater, but the evidence had come up short.

The night was filled with watchful waiting as Malcolme Edgecomb did not return to the great hall. Dumbledore instructed them to have fun and carry on.

Mad Eye Moody was dressed in a busy polyester dress shirt with bell bottom pants and clunky boots which did not hide the fact that he walked with a stump for a foot. He wore a fedora hat with a large plumed feather in it. As 'Guidance Councillor,' Mad Eye Moody was enlisted to knock on Malcolm Edgecomb's door in the guise of being concerned about the well being of the family unit after the events concerning his daughter Marietta and her involvement in the kidnapping of Harry and her subsequent incarceration for that crime. Lupin and Tonks were impressed with the way Moody handled the situation when a very haggard looking Malcolm Edgemcombe opened the door, looking like he had just finished up getting into his seventies costume, but not wanting to attend the party.

As Malcolm politely declined Moody's 'council,' Professor Lupin could swear there was something familiar about Malcolm Edgecombe, who until this very evening, had appeared to be in robust health.

Moody lost his patience in an awful hurry trying to be subtle and non accusatory in case it turned out that Malcolm Edgecombe was in fact innocent of posing as Lupin. Moody finally blurted out, "Fine, have it your way. We're just going to have a little look around. Tightened security these days you understand?" he asked, in a manner that made it clear that it mattered not at all if he had given consent for private quarter security check or not.

"Er...um...yes of course, but as I'm rather busy...late for the dance you see and my wife, " Mr Edgecombe replied nervously, checking his watch, which, true to the era, was a Muggle digital large faced one.

"Oh, of course, well, off you go then. We'll lock up for you," Tonks smiled at Edgemcomb. He looked like he wanted to argue but at the sight of the three impressive wizards, he gave in with a nervous wave of impatience, making his way to the Great Hall while looking back at them in his doorway as far as he could before rounding the corner.

"He's got it with him, I know it," Moody growled impatiently." We're wasting our time searching his room."

"Got what with him Mad Eye?" Tonks wanted to know. "You can't see through clothing too now can you?" she asked pulling her cloaks a little more firmly around her, glad that she had thought to put them on over her little mini dress with daisies in her hair and huge white boots.

"Urgh!" Mad Eye growled, offended by her suggestion, but Lupin looked like he'd love to be able to try that some time.

Finding nothing of interest in the room, Lupin held out the Marauders map and they followed Edgecombe at a decent pace. The man looked relieved to see the Aurors sit down in the Great Hall shortly after he'd arrived, having found nothing suspicious in his room.

Keeping tabs on Edgecombe proved a valuable clue as they saw the man slip a small object to Draco Malfoy as the surly teen smirked at the Aurors. Moody's desire to turn Draco into a ferret once and for all was almost consuming as Tonks told the old school style Auror to count to ten and breathe. One of the only things Moody's imposter had done right, as far as Moody was concerned, was turning Malfoy into a ferret. One of the younger Order members was sent to discreetly follow Malfoy around. It was decided some time ago, that the younger Malfoy would probably know most if not all of the established Order members from his father.

Malfoy was never one to mingle outside of Slytherins, though when a pretty girl approached him to dance, he did not decline. Without Pansy Parkinson draped over his arm and no Crabbe or Goyle to do his bidding, the evening was not his usual success.

Malcolm Edgecombe was now the main suspect in having been the spy inside Hogwarts for Voldemort, but since no Polyjuice Potion had been found on the man, nor was he suffering any of the typical after affects of a transformation charm, he could not be formally questioned. Dumbledore had looked up the Edgecombe genealogy and found that it was highly unlikely for any Edgecombe to be a Metamorhamagi like Tonks, since things like that usually ran in families and there were no others in the line before him.

Professor Lupin was very agitated that it had been his likeness someone had chosen to spy on Harry and leak information about the wards and such surrounding Hogwarts. He felt strangely violated and apologetic at the same time. It wasn't bad enough that he was a werewolf among them. Would this person strike again, possibly hurting or killing people?

It was with a very heavy heart that Remus Lupin informed Harry that he would be asking the headmaster for a transfer to protect Harry. This way, if anyone saw 'Remus Lupin,' they wouldn't have to second guess themselves before apprehending in whatever way suitable the situation required.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll keep in touch and I'll likely be back soon," Lupin told him.

'No, wait, Professor Lupin." Harry didn't know what to say, but knew Professor Lupin was taking this way too personally. "If you leave, the person can just turn into someone else anyway," Harry reasoned.

The self conscious Lupin hadn't considered this in his concern for his only link to his past, Harry, James and Lily's son and Sirius' Godson. Hermione handed Lupin a hot apple cider and asked him to sit down.

Dumbledore had placed some magical statues as look out sentries near the Edgecombe family quarters. The headmaster also came over to the table to assure Lupin that his presence was very much needed here at such a time, but Lupin so used to being shunned with his condition every month, worried that the kind old man was being merely generous. Lupin had come on duty the very night after the full moon and hadn't slept well at all since. When the headmaster suggested that he and Tonks take some well deserved leisure, Lupin felt like he was dismissed. It was Harry who finally talked some reason into him.

In a very quiet voice, having moved closer to Lupin, Harry told him that it would mean a lot to James if he were here to see Lupin live a little. The one last chance for the Marauders to have a happy life, despite the constant problems he had to endure.

"Look, Professor...Remus." Harry found himself being the source for comfort now. "You're a part of my life now. I don't want you to leave. You're just having a bad day."

Hermione, Ron and Ginny all watched from the sidelines, trying to look as though they weren't listening. It was the first time in his life that Harry was not only not trying to push those he cared for out of his life, but asking them to stay.

Remus had always felt that Harry liked him well enough, but Sirius had been his godfather after all. Harry had given this some thought and he could only think that James and Lily hadn't put the added burden of being a godparent on Remus was because of his already turbulent life. Under law, a child would never go to a registered werewolf in these unenlightened times. Sirius and Remus had both been very close to the young couple, but in the end, they had to choose Sirius. Harry felt quite certain that his parents would have named either of the Marauders under normal circumstances, but the life of the werewolf does not even allow room for the person afflicted to support themselves. Remus had been robbed of a family twice.

Lupin had never shown much emotion in the times when he had stood before the young man with the eyes of his mother and the almost identical features of his best friend, but looking into his face now, caused a lump to form in the man's throat. No one had really wanted him either, or at least he had so long been without real companionship outside of acquaintance of the Order, that he had forgotten what that might feel like. Teaching at Hogwarts was the closest thing the man had had to a home in years since James and Lily had died and his other best friend, the only one who knew him truly, had gone to prison for it.

"Don't do that," Harry warned with a snifling nose, meaning the watery look Remus's eyes had taken on. "Because if you do, the Slytherins will have a field day with it and Mad Eye'll turn you into something for getting soft." Harry wiped a sleeve across his eyes before realizing that leather wasn't absorbent and they began to laugh.

Lupin stopped gazing at Harry once more as the boy thought, oh what now?' "You even sound like him," Remus murmured, trying to buck up.

"Well, in that case, what would my father say in a situation like this?" Harry asked.

Lupin looked thoughtful, but he smiled, and said, "James would chuck that blasted snitch he always carried right at my head and threaten to tell one of the girls I was interested in that I liked her if I stayed down too long after...you know."

"Easy then, I'm not a Seeker for nothing you know?" Harry balled up a napkin and chucked it his father's friend. Lupin looked somewhat better, but Harry could tell he still felt like a burden. He decided to stay and had just decided to head back to his quarters when Mrs Weasley cleared her throat and whatever message transferred between she and Arthur, got through loud and clear.

The Weasleys had had an argument when Molly had decided to let the cat out of the bag that Tonks fancied Remus Lupin, but wouldn't dare tell the always serious and devoted to duty man. For his part, Lupin had always found Tonks very pretty, but somewhat too young for him. Mr Weasley spent the next five minutes with Lupin, in what looked like a father and son talk and Harry could almost see a blush come to Lupin's pallid features as he glanced in Nymphadora Tonks' direction. Harry would have given anything for a pair of extendable ears right now, and he found himself grinning when Lupin made his way casually toward the young Auror.

Harry resolved to have fun now, despite the constant threat and he was glad he'd chosen this theme. He even noticed a few of the Slytherin's feet tapping on the floor in time to the music, though they were too proud and intimidated by the other Slytherins to get up and have some fun Muggle style.

Lupin stood next to Tonks and managed to splutter, "don't suppose you'd like to..." But he'd lost his nerve and ended up pointing toward the dance floor. Tonks, fortunately, was swift on the uptake.

"Oh, of course, Remus. We could er, keep our ears and eyes open on the dance floor..."

"Yeah, that's what I meant, mingle a little," Lupin said, smiling a little too widely and causing Harry to cringe at the sight, remembering the thin stretched look of his professor's face when he was transforming into a werewolf.

A very appropriate, but very out of tune song, called 'I got you babe,' by Sonny and Cher came on. Those listening to the lyrics laughed because the words could easily have applied to Lupin and Tonks. Harry looked over at Ginny, who was genuinely happy for Remus and Tonks, as she'd heard how much they'd always liked one another.

Harry left his cane at the table and stood to take Ginny's hand, and at the song called 'put your head on my shoulder,' remade in the seventies by Leaf Garret, Ginny snuggled into his body and fit so perfectly, Harry couldn't help but look down on her face pressed into his chest and shoulder as the words burned into his head. 'People say that love is a game, a game you just can't win...If there's a way, I'll find it someday..." Harry vowed along with the song. He had no idea that he'd been singing this into Ginny's ear. He wanted her, but he knew how much danger she was in because of this.

A/N Okay, this part begins the lead up to finding a cure for Lycanthropy. If anyone can guess an ingredient that will be used to make the cure, I will make you a tea and cookies, LOL. The next chapter is, I hope, going to be getting exciting as we prepare for Christmas and then the final battle. About seven or eight chapters to go. As I have said, I wrote this over a year ago, before the release of HBP and so I was really pleased that I'd placed Harry and Ginny together, thanks to Melindaleo and Tonks and Lupin because I like them together. The Fifth House is explained fully sometime in the next few chapters, and we learn more of its history and maybe even meet some of its former members! If you have time, please review this story as it comes down to the windup. I would really appreciate it. And thanks to everyone who has taken their valuable time to review for me. It makes my day and you are so very kind! Also, if I may be so bold, I have a challenge story up at a site called called 'A Lesson In Human Anatomy,' and if you get time for the 20 page story, I would love to hear from you. It's a combination of the SIYE challenge and wizardtales challenge in one shot. It's PG 13. Anyway, thanks!


	47. FOILING FRED AND GEORGE

Foiling Fred and George

The song that Harry and Ginny had been swaying to was too short for the both of them, but there was no staying on the dance floor as the next song was a very loud vibrant one called, 'Stayin' Alive,' by the Bee Gees. Hermione made Ron stay out on the dance floor to at least try out the lively movements that went with this song. Harry and Ginny laughed at Ron's pitiful attempt, while Hermione caught on easily or had done this before.

Remus and Tonks had continued to stay on the dance floor song after song, enfolded in one another's arms as if they let go, they'd go back to the way they'd been before this night, secretly longing for one another. Mr and Mrs and Weasley had been dancing, just as in love today as they had always been.

Professor Snape wore a pained expression as Professor Sprout, wearing a knitted poncho over her long polyester flared skirt and toeless high heeled shoes, asked him to dance. Snape didn't seem to have the heart (did he even have one?) to say no. Everyone's jaw dropped. The hawk nosed Potions Professor could dance! Was there no end to the hats this man wore? The Herbology Professor looked absolutely thrilled as Snape twirled her around the dance floor, looking as detached as a professional ball room dancer with an unfamiliar partner. When Snape dipped Professor Sprout at the end of the song, he looked embarrassed to find all eyes on him. Snape was not winded at all as Professor Sprout went in search of something to drink. He looked like he wanted to deduct a thousand points from every staring student.

After this performance, Snape found himself in the very uncomfortable position of being asked to dance by every lady whose husband was a poor dancer. Snape was about to duck out of the room when he was caught by Dumbledore, who had a slightly evil twinkle in his eye as he instructed Severus to 'keep mingling.' So it went that Snape was seen twirling lady after lady around the Great Hall and Tonks and Lupin were now acting more like teenagers than the students were.

The dance was coming to a close sooner than most had expected as the time had flown by. There were 'oohs and ahhs' from the Muggles in the crowd, remembering how, in the late seventies, most of the dances ended with a song called, 'Stairway To Heaven,' by Led Zepplin. Tyler looked happy, sitting with some of the first years he'd come to know as his parents danced to songs that they were so familiar with, having been married in the seventies.

As the lights came up, Harry exclaimed to himself, "oh, man, I forgot to give Ginny her corsage," It was a common custom in the seventies for a formal occasion for the boy to give the girl a corsage, and Hermione and Luna both had theirs. He was about to go and get the flower when Mrs Weasley informed him that she had grabbed it from his wardrobe before the dance, meaning to give it to him before the dance started , but she had forgotten it with everything that had happened. She pulled it out of her dress purse and it was still in a lovely perfect bloom. Neville's varieties were very healthy.

'Ginny, I know it's late, a lot late, but well, here..." He handed her the flower and she looked at it as though Christmas had come early.

"It's an ever- bloom. If you put it in water, it'll grow roots, so you can keep it forever, not that you'd want to or anything..." he added, quickly feeling stupid. Ginny did want it forever, but as she looked at the pretty young bloom, a part of her wondered if one day, she'd be sitting looking at it, alive and healthy, wondering if it would become a reminder of this night if it lived longer than Harry. He was a marked man and she hadn't entered into this lightly.

"It's beautiful Harry, I love you...I love it!" she corrected emphatically.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," Harry stated, staring straight into Ginny's eyes, leaving no doubt that he was talking about her.

Everyone sat, blinking owlishly at the lights and eating snacks and coffee or tea before leaving, while only Harry's table remained full. Harry saw Neville kiss Luna goodnight as Gran looked on. It was awkward. Even dressed as a Muggle, Neville's gran still resembled a witch. When Gran hugged Luna and her father goodnight, and lingered in Mr Lovegood's arms, Hermione wondered why Luna didn't mind this, since she felt that she would see her mother again someday.

Harry wished he could go back to the Gryffindor Common Room instead of the Hospital Wing, but Ginny reminded him that it would be empty, since most students were staying in the Family Suites. He found himself unable to stifle a yawn, and Mrs Weasley suggested that Ginny see him up to his room and stay with him until he fell asleep. Harry was loathe to admit he was exhausted and wondered when normal teenage stamina would come back to him.

Madam Pomfrey was waiting for Harry when he returned and was already back in her uniform.

"How are we feeling tonight Mr Potter?" the Matron asked while Harry mused to himself, 'I am fine, and you should lighten up a bit...'

Harry answered her in a cheeky way, "We are fine, we are just a little bit tired,' he grinned at her. She and indeed even Muggle doctors always asked this question in plural. She ordered him to change into his pyjamas and lie down while she went to get his potions. She informed him that she was tired as well from all the dancing and would be resting in her office should he need her.

Harry was surprised that Madam Pomfrey had not insisted that Ginny leave now that it was so late, but she did warn her not to keep Harry up as he was still healing. He was also extremely shocked when she shut the door behind her, when usually she would have left it open.

It wasn't long before he and Ginny were holding hands, about to close in for a kiss, when there was a quick knock on the door and the twins came in. Harry and Ginny unclasped hands and tried to look normal.

"Just to let you know Harry, we'll be right outside. Dumbledore asked us to see to security here," Fred informed Harry, surprised to find Ginny there.

"Er, great," Harry said lamely, feeling guilty for something he hadn't even done.

"Well, it was a bit of a wrench when Dumbledore asked us to do extra security work and all, because Angelina and Katie Bell...well you know, they looked so..." Fred sighed. "But you know what they say, 'Tis a far, far better thing I do..." he began as George rolled his eyes and pulled him from the room.

Ginny, who was up to pulling pranks on her brothers, especially Fred and George, asked Harry rather mischievously if he was up to having a little fun. Harry, taking her meaning quite differently, didn't know what to say.

"I didn't mean THAT!" She laughed merrily.

Harry was instantly flustered. "No, of course not, Ginny. I never thought...I would never..." he faltered as she laughed.

"Oh come now dear, one day..." she winked at him, making him melt. "Anyway, I know we're not going to, and you know we're not going to, but sometimes I get the feeling they don't trust me..." Ginny said, looking at the door like it was see through. "When I went out with Dean for a little while, I'm pretty sure those two scared him away with threats about keeping his hands off their little sister."

Harry now wondered why he hadn't received such threats, and he didn't know whether to feel grateful or unsettled about it. When Ginny revealed her plan to him, he blushed deeply, but agreed to it, hoping the twins would see the humour in it.

At first, Harry and Ginny felt very awkward about what they were about to do. They made deep moaning noises between stifled fits of giggles as Ginny, feet away from Harry, pushed on the mattress, causing the old springs to make loud creaking noises in a certain rhythm. Harry glanced nervously at the door as Ginny let a loud cry of, "Oh Harry!" He hoped someday, when they were older and finished with school, he'd hear this again when the time was right for the both of them, but for now he cringed hoping not to be killed by her big brothers for this prank.

The door practically burst off it's huge iron hinges and Fred and George burst in, almost falling over each other looking horrified. Ginny was no where near Harry, they were both fully clothed and laughing hysterically at the completely disgusted looks on both the twins faces. They had been listening at the door like Ginny had suspected.

"Gotcha!" Ginny shrieked triumphantly between fits of laughter, while Harry's mouth had gone very dry, waiting for the twin's reaction. Good natured as always, they were soon laughing too, as Harry breathed a sigh of relief, oddly comforted that not only had they not beaten him, but they had thought it a distinct possibility that Ginny would sleep with him.

"That was worthy, little sister," George complimented. " We bow to your genius," and they both bowed, promising to get them back for nearly giving them heart attacks. The twins fixed the door and left, this time keeping a respectful distance from the door...for now anyway.

"For a minute there, I thought I'd gone and lived for nothing!" Harry exclaimed, still smiling. 'Still, it might be worth a beating if..." he said slyly.

"Now, Mr Potter, you're not getting fresh on me on me, are you?"

"I...ah...yeah...do you want me to?" he asked seriously, for as yet, he still wasn't even sure if he should be kissing her now that they had made firm ground rules against things they weren't ready for. She kissed him in a way that would answer his question sufficiently for a lifetime, he hoped, as they kissed for so long, coming up for air almost seemed necessary.

As they kissed, Harry was pleased to find that at least his body responded in the appropriate, if not terribly embarrassing way, with all the injuries he had sustained. The small part of his brain that could still focus when she was this close to his body, knew that he valued her too much to go beyond the passionate kisses they now shared whenever possible. They each knew instinctively when to stop kissing and Harry was more than pleased to find that she craved his lips as much as he craved hers.

As Ginny, all smiles, stood up suddenly and simply said, 'night Harry!' and skipped from the room, Harry knew that if his best friend wasn't Ginny's brother, he would have told him all about this night.

Ron came back fifteen minutes later, wearing a grin all of his own and seeing as how Ginny was his sister, he wasn't sure he liked the way Harry looked, happy...really happy...too happy.

"What's up?" he asked. Mentally kicking himself for the pun.

"Nothing, why?" Harry replied, not catching the completely unintended pun.

"Oh, oh good," Ron replied.

"You know you're worse than Fred and George don't you?" Harry laughed, tossing a pillow at him.

"Don't know what you mean," Ron replied, trying to sound innocent.

Harry took on a very serious face when he told Ron. "You know I wouldn't..." Harry began to explain himself.

"URGH! Harry! Don't talk about it!" Ron begged, placing his hands over his ears.

"That's just it, there is nothing to talk about. Not that I'd tell you anyway," Harry laughed, not being able to resist a little further torment. Ron relaxed, believing Harry. Harry could have easily turned the table on Ron, having been as close to a brother to Hermione all these years. "Have fun tonight?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah...and no, we didn't," if that's what you mean," Ron stated, a little defensively, to Harry's amusement.

"No, that's not what I meant," Harry replied, though secretly relieved by Ron's answer. Ron and Hermione seemed very happy at the same level he and Ginny were taking, and so Harry's fears were put to rest. He was a normal teenager...well, except for the whole Voldemort thing anyway.

"Mione's a fantastic kisser, though!" Ron said dreamily, breaking Harry's thoughts. Harry was about to comment similarly about Ginny, but stopped himself, out of respect for Ron. Harry's dreams that night, were all good ones for a change and he slept in late, finding everyone up for breakfast when he finally opened his eyes.

The first face he looked for after breakfast, was Ginny's, and there she was, back to her blue jeans and a hooded sweatshirt with two pony tails. She had looked absolutely gorgeous last time, but this was the way Harry preferred her, the way he always pictured her in his mind when he was thinking of her. He sat next to her, not even glancing at anyone else.

The only thing that distracted Harry from gazing stupidly into Ginny's eyes, was Lupins voice, explaining to the Weasleys that Malcolm Edgemcome had turned up in the Hospital Wing last night, begging for a Dreamless Sleep Potion and head ache remedy. He than returned to his quarters, and remained the only suspect in the imposter incident.

Edgecombe had continued to look very ill, after being suspected of having taking Polyjuice Potion to transform into Lupin. There were rumours in the halls, that Edgecombe had been heard screaming all night throughout the luxurious guest accommodation. The Order was desperately trying to find a way to keep Edgecombe at Hogwarts to monitor his bizarre behaviour, but tomorrow was the leaving feast and since no hard evidence had been found to detain the man, he would be free to go.

"But...you aren't just going to let him leave?" Harry asked, indignant on behalf of Professor Lupin.

"Not entirely, no. He will be tailed day and night, but we have no authority to hold him," Tonks informed them all, seeming agitated about the laws as well.

Hermione had been thoughtful all throughout the breakfast, and at times, looked about to say something. A theory was forming in her head as she thought about Edgecombe's transformation from a very healthy person to a very sickly one in a matter of days following his suspicious activities regarding Professor Lupin. The law may not be sure it was Edgecombe who had impersonated Lupin, but all who were present at this table were. Hermione would be spending even more time in the library than usual to test her new theories.

As the friends spent a pleasant afternoon together with the families, Harry wondered when he would be allowed to return to regular classes. If someone had even suggested that he'd find himself missing his school work, even a year ago, he would have called them crazy.

After a nice swim, they came across Neville with his Gran, playing a game of exploding snap. None of them would have pegged Gran as an exploding snap player in a million years. Exploding snap had been a reward for Neville after trying extra hard on his lessons as a child, they came to find out. All Harry had ever received for having done well at something was, 'about time,' or 'you should have done better!'

It was the first peaceful, non organized day they'd had in awhile, so Harry took the opportunity to ask his friends whether they thought he should ask to come back to school, after all, he'd just done an entire corridor without even using his cane once.

"Well, actually, Dumbledore told Ron and I that we should attend some regular classes now, and now, don't get mad, but he asked us if we thought you were ready to do some as well. We said 'yes.'

"Thanks. What did he say?"

He said he'd talk to you later. He didn't want you to be angry with him for talking to us first. He didn't want to get your hopes up, that's why he came to us first about it. He's been so busy with extra security and the Order that he hasn't seen all the progress you've made," Hermione explained, searching Harry's face for signs of anger. Harry was still extremely touchy about being left out of things that pertained to him being done behind his back.

"Why didn't he just ask Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked.

"Well, you know what she would say. Probably that you'd break like a twig. Besides, I think he wanted to know about how you're coping with the other students and the stresses of being out among them."

Harry had to admit, loathe as he was to do it, that Dumbledore had been wise to think of these things. Ginny had that effect on him. Even a month ago, finding this all out, would have made Harry angry or sad. He thought things clearly through now before making up his mind and was able to walk a mile in someone's shoes now better than before. Dumbledore had made many mistakes, costing Harry much, but Harry knew now that the old man was a human, a gifted wizard yes, but still very human with all the faults and wonders to go with it.

At dinner that evening, Harry didn't feel out of place for the first time ever. Ginny was next to him and he felt like he was a part of each of their families. Dumbledore had seated himself at that table, which was a great honour for the visiting relatives at this table.

At bedtime that evening, Madam Pomfrey, Professor Lupin and Professor Snape had a meeting with Harry to discuss plans for after Family Week. Harry would have to be content with a revised return to classes, but was not yet allowed to return to the Gryffindor Dorms. Still, it was an improvement to the boredom of the Hospital Wing. He felt childishly happy when informed that Ron, when offered a choice to return to the boys dorms or stay with Harry, chose the latter, staying with his best friend until his official discharge from the hospital.

"And when might that be?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Small steps, Harry. We'll see," Madam Pomfrey promised, smiling. "You still need your potions and some physical training. Professor Dumbledore is going to leave a portion of the pool area open when he restores the area back into classrooms, so you can build some strength and stamina by swimming daily for one class length of time. It will take time, just be patient," she instructed kindly. Lupin smiled, seeing the impetuous James in Harry's face at this time, but also the determination to do whatever would get him out of there and back where he belonged.

Lupin was pleased to give Harry the next bit of good news. He was allowed to visit the Gryffindor Common Room, and to practice Quidditch moderately, so long as the team would agree to foam bludgers until such a time as he was completely healed. Harry was sure Angelina would never agree to this, but he was surprised when there was a soft knock at the door, and Lupin, looking like he knew exactly who it was, stood to answer it.

Ron came in wearing his Quidditch robes, but with Angelina's captain's crest on it. He was followed by Angelina in regular clothes. She smiled at Harry and told him. "I just really wanted to beat Slytherin one more time without that Umbridge woman over us. Now we've done that, thanks to you. "I've had my captaincy, and I'm really only back at school to pick up the courses we missed on account of Umbridge. These next two years belong to you guys.." she stated, gesturning at Ron and Harry.

"I've asked Ron to take over as team captain. I would have asked you, but you've got your hands full and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't permit it. Ron didn't want to take the captaincy, but with you helping him and giving him advice, you'll get the house cup for sure." Angelina's eyes were full of tears. This was truly a selfless act, as Angelina loved Quidditch as much as the obsessed Oliver Wood had.

It was a lot of information and change for one night, and it was bittersweet. Harry knew he couldn't be the captain in this shape, and he felt sorry for Ron, looking thoroughly undeserving and nervous.

"Congratulations," Harry said genuinely to Ron, offering his hand to shake.

"Thanks, mate," Ron murmured, letting go of a breath he must have been holding the whole time. Harry, for some reason, felt okay about this. If it couldn't be him, it might as well be Ron, and Ron made it his first order of business to agree to the foam bludgers and to appoint Harry official Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Harry lay down to sleep that night with a lot on his mind.

Harry awoke at five in the morning, worried that he'd just accepted Seeker position right out from under the now recovered Ginny. He couldn't help but send Hedwig to her to apologize for not discussing it with her first. He would never have accepted had she wanted that position this year.

In the girl's dorms, Ginny mumbled to her family owl, Errol to stop picking at her, until she felt a small nip at her ear and woke up fully to an annoyed Hedwig and not Errol. She immediately felt something must be wrong. Harry had never sent an owl at this time of the morning. She opened the letter, scared of what it might contain, but smiled in sympathy at Harry's plight, although, a little miffed at having been woke up so early. She sent Hedwig back with a note saying, 'see you a minute!'

Kingsley Shaklebolt was reluctant to let Ginny in to Harry and Ron's room at this hour, but as he peaked in to check on the boys, he found Harry was expecting her. Ginny assured Harry that she had wanted him to have his position as Seeker all year. He was relieved when she affirmed that she would be staying on the team in a less stressful position of chaser. "Besides, Harry, you know I can't resist a man in uniform," she winked at him. She had always admired his physique in his bold red Gryffindor Quidditch uniform. Harry vowed to himself that he would put his all into his workouts to build himself up again, and found he couldn't keep from smiling at her compliment.

At the Leaving Feast, Dumbledore announced the official changes made to the Gryffindor Quidditch team and was met with cheerful applause, particularly from the Gryffindors. Harry looked at Ron, who had looked at him at the same moment, as if checking to see if this was really alright. Harry remembered what Ron had seen in the Mirror Of Erised, himself as Quidditch captain. He was glad at least one of them could have one of their deepest desires come true, and Harry raised his glass in a toast to the old Quidditch captain, who blushed deeply, still teary eyed, and to the new Quidditch captain and his best friend. Ron looked very pleased at the applause, but still humble.

Dumbledore also stated that the Hogsmead trips had been considered too risky, but on contemplation, Hogwarts would not be held prisoner. The trips would be reinstated with supreme security measures and the first one was scheduled for about a month away, but no specific date would be posted. This announcement drew applause even from the Slytherins.

Everyone went down to see the visitors off and Harry saw an emotional exchange between Neville and his Gran. Gran said, "I wanted to give you these earlier, but I didn't want you to dwell on them all through the week. Your mother sent these. She is very fond of them and I think you'll be quite pleased." Gran was actually smiling warmly at the Neville.

Neville had tears welling up in his eyes and Harry felt very sorry for him, knowing how hard it is trying to control emotions at a time like this. Gran continued as Neville opened the box which had a very childlike N drawn on the top.

"Well go on, eat one. She was so proud she got it right," Gran smiled sadly as Neville unwrapped his first ever whole Droobles Best Blowing Gum from the wrapper and popped it into his mouth, wishing his mother could have been here to see him enjoy it. "But then there were these..." Gran smiled wanly, at the rest of the wrappers, which as usual were empty. Harry looked away just as Neville pocketed the empty wrappers instead of throwing in the trash.

"Gran? Thanks for everything...really," Harry heard Neville tell his Gran.

Gran seemed somewhat taken aback. "I've always been proud of you boy," she told him, stepping onto the train.

Hermione's parents seemed reluctant to leave Hermione there, but they now understood that danger lurked everywhere and their daughter was as safe here as anywhere.

Harry shook hands with Dudley very formally and then Lavender planted a large kiss on Dudley's lips as Harry walked away, hearing Dudley explaining to Lavender that he didn't have an owl and his father would kill him if he ever caught him with one. So, that was that, romance over, and Harry was disgusted to see that Lavender was actually crying!

The castle seemed almost lonely with the families gone, and in less than an hour, it looked like a school again. The students belongings were back in their dorms and the only the thing remaining from the change, was the swimming pool, and the new fledgling trees that had been planted over the time capsule. Harry promised he wouldn't think too much about what he had put into the time capsule. What would happen would and there was very little anyone could do about it. Placing his chosen items into the time capsule, had given Harry a little more encouragement to live to see it opened one day in the far future. He knew this was improbable, but at least some of who he had really been, was preserved and he wouldn't be forgotten like in his dreams about the museum, which he remembered with a shudder.

Mrs Weasley fussed so much over Harry on his first day back to classes, it was as though it was his first day of Kindergarten. She was actually choked up. She checked his uniform, tried to flatten his unruly hair and made him eat, when he himself, although looking forward to some normalcy, also felt nervous.

Harry was only permitted to attend one class in the morning and one in the afternoon, resting and swimming alternately. He was to practice Quidditch only twice weekly, only in fair weather and for no more than two hours at a time. Ron assured Harry this was fine. He doubted everyone's favourite Seeker needed much practice anyhow.

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry his potions and was careful not to mention his still too thin frame and delicate state, but she did warn him to summon her immediately if he needed anything.

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry agreed, having heard her enlist Ron and Hermione to keep an eye on him and report any problems right away.

Just Harry's luck, Potions with Snape would be his first class back. Both he and Ron had been accepted into Snapes Potions classes this year, thanks largely to Hermione who badgered them constantly to study last year. Both boys had only elected to take Potions this year, as it was requirement for Auror training.

Harry didn't expect any special treatment from Snape despite this past summer, and he didn't get it. Harry was handed a revision parchment and told to do it before the end of class in order to see if he stood a chance of passing this year, despite his long absence. It was like his confinement to the hospital had all been his fault or something. It wasn't long before Harry regretted wishing to return to school.

A/N So, the end of the dance. It will go a bit quicker from here on out with all that stuff out of the way and Harry back in classes with Snape. Thanks for reading! Please review if you have time and check out my challenge at for the Birthday Bash challenge. It's called 'A Lesson In Human Anatomy.' One of the answers to the question I posed in the last chapter as to what ingredients do you think will be used in the cure for Lycanthropy, was very close and I will mention the person with the almost correct (and humourous I might add) answer. You guys rock!


	48. Angels, Devils and Missing Buttocks

Harry fidgeted nervously at his seat in his first Potions Class. Hermione placed her hand reassuringly on his shoulder as Ron gave him knowing glances. As usual, Snape directed his wand at blackboard and instructions for a Stasis Potion appeared on the board. The very same potion that had almost killed Harry when he'd been kidnapped. Harry felt what little colour he had, drain from his face. Was the man antagonizing him, or was this a part of the textbook curriculum for sixth years? Perhaps Snape was instructing his Slytherins how to do it right for a change, Harry thought angrily.

Halfway through the class, Harry was finished his revision assignment and Snape scowled, not being able to find a single mistake, thanks to Fred and George's help with the Sleep Learning. He was now ordered to begin his Stasis Potion, even though there was not enough time for it to be finished by the end of the class.

Malfoy still found time to scowl at Harry, even without Crabbe and Goyle around to back him up. How could he have wished for this? He realized he was rubbing his hands through his hair in frustration. As Snape glanced icily toward him a few times and Malfoy hissed under his breath out of earshot of Ron and Hermione about a proper welcome back gift, Harry considered retreating back to the hospital where life was more structured and secure. Harry was feeling very anxious to leave and was berating himself for letting these things, which weren't uncommon before, bother him now.

Snape vanished his potion which was overboiling purple froth onto the floor of the dungeon and Harry could hear people laughing at him. Harry couldn't believe this was happening. He found himself putting his head down on the desk and tried to block it all out, while Snape asked him tauntingly if he should send for the Matron. Harry felt he should have known this was coming. He was miserable and Hermione looked like she wanted to hex people and Ron just wanted to punch them. Harry knew he was in a classroom full of children of Death Eaters, whose master wanted him dead.

Ron and Hermione felt helpless, other than offering to take Harry back to his room, which they both knew he'd hate. Harry didn't know what was happening to him. He tried to get up to leave with Hermione and Ron, but found himself rooted to the spot.

"Right then, Miss Granger, go get Madam Pomfrey and inform her not to send Mr Potter back to my class until has mastered his faculties. Harry snapped. How dare he allude to the fact that Harry had finally lost his mind. He knew better than anyone else at Hogwarts how cruelly Harry had suffered this year, and how brave he'd been through all of it. Harry had had enough. Enough of the whispers in the hall, the taunting, everything. Maybe if they all knew how much was actually riding on this 'nut case', they'd all shut up, he thought vehemently. The laughing of the Slytherins taunted his mind.

"SHUT UP!" Harry suddenly shouted, raising his face from the table where his arms had been protectively around it, his face contorted in rage.

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Snape warned Harry. "Master yourself, Mr Potter."

"You shut up too! I'll go anywhere I please and you won't hinder it! I have just as much right to be here as anyone, so get off my back! And that goes for the rest of you as well. I saw most of you cowering in the Great Hall when Voldemort showed up...VOLDEMORT! Yes I said it, VOLDEMORT!"Harry shouted as everyone, including Snape cringed.

Harry stood up shaking, on legs that felt like rubber and started to re-mix his potion under the incredulous stares of the Slytherins. As Snape asked Harry if he was quite finished and took one hundred more points from Gryffindor, Hermione put her hand on Harry's back, feeling it stiffen at the touch.

"Not now please Hermione," he asked quietly, trying to regain his composure and dignity. As the class came to an end, Harry walked, minus cane, but limping badly, and plopped his potions vial onto Snape's desk. He gulped in the fresh air outside the musty old dungeons.

Hermione and Ron had been granted extra time to escort Harry back to his room in the Hospital Wing. They took their cue from Harry, and didn't speak. Madam Pomfrey had been practically pacing by the time they came in.

"How do you feel, Mr Potter?' she asked, noting his dejected slouch.

"Just tired," Harry admitted, leaving any details out for fear that the Matron would run down to the dungeons and hex Snape.

"Well, that is to be expected," she agreed. She instructed him to eat the snack she had left for him on his bed tray and then get some rest. He knew he should eat the snacks they were all forcing on him, being as thin as he still was, but he just couldn't. 'What's wrong with me?' he asked himself, flopping heavily onto his bed. 'Hasn't Snape always been like that? Hadn't the Slytherins always been like that?' He now knew that it was not them that had changed, it was him.

Harry went over in his mind, the lesson for today, which he knew already from the twins sleep learning. He kept wondering why then, he had failed at it so miserably. 'Because you're weak and let them get under your skin,' a nasty voice at the back of his mind said.

"I am not weak!' Harry answered it out loud. Harry tried to at least rest, but after a half hour without success, he heard a voice in the hall that he'd longed to hear for a very long time.

"Oh, Hagrid, it's nice to see you safely back, almost anyway. Now, just keep that sling on for a few more days and nooooo, don't put that dirty old steak back on your eye!" Harry heard the Matron instruct.

"Yes ma'am," Hagrid replied while waiting to see Harry.

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm awake." He was anxious for news of Sashu, but afraid of what that may be.

"Harry, yeh look right perked up!" Hagrid congratulated. Avoiding the questions he would no doubt hear next.

"Hagrid, are you alright? Where are Sashu and her babies?" Harry asked, taking in Hagrid's haggard appearance.

"Sashu's fine, she's moved the babies to a rock cliff on the other side of the Forbidden forest. She's fine, jus' she won' come back," and dragons are not on the protected list aroun' here, bein' as how there's none of 'em around here naturally. So, unfortunately, she's considered wild game when she leaves the nest, open to hunting."

"No, Hagrid, there has to be something you can do. Her hide would catch a fortune in Knockturn Alley if people find out about this. It would become like a Muggle fishing derby, total chaos. You have to let me come with you to talk to her," Harry pleaded.

'Sorry, lad. I just couldn't risk you. You're not strong enough yet fer a trek like that," Hagrid said gently.

"Try not to worry, Harry. Charlie and his friends from Romania are out there now, and I'm fixing to head back...jus' had to stop in to see about me arm, but now as I'm right as rain, I'll be off. We'll do our best to protect her, you know that?" Hagrid told him sincerely, placing his gigantic hand under Harry's chin and looking him right in the eyes.

"Are you sure you're alright, Hagrid?"

"Yeah, Just a broken arm. Good thing Lockehart's not here. I don't reckon Madam Pomfrey's got enough SkeleGro to grow one o' these back," Hagrid laughed, holding up his enormous forearm.

"How did you break your arm Hagrid?" Harry knew it would take a lot to break a bone that large. When Hagrid didn't answer immediately, Harry knew. "The hunt's already on, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I won' lie to you. It is," Hagrid admitted as he hung his head. "Dumbledore thinks some of the Death Eaters families from Family Week, have spread the word about the dragon, and it gets worse," the giant went on, proud, at least that he wasn't lying to Harry like everyone else had done all these years. "Lucius Malfoy's wife, Narcissa, has put up a heavy reward for Sashu's hide, under the guise of being worried, what with Lucius in Azkaban and all. She said she can't also be worried about a rogue dragon on the loose, maybe attacking the school her son goes to and all," Hagrid finished bitterly.

Harry said nothing as Hagrid gave him some good news, that may came too late; that tomorrow, there was to be an emergency meeting at the Ministry to see about extending dragon protection to England as an endangered species to Sashu given the unusual situation. Hagrid had already had to stun four separate parties of hunters, led by a recognizable Death Eater. They had only had permission to stun the men because of the already outstanding warrants for their arrest, but the minute the protection team came upon a legitimate hunter, they had no due course but to try reason until the new passed.

Unfortunately, the newly captured leadDeath Eater had taken a potion recently discovered, called Dementor's kiss, rendering him useless for questioning. Harry was repulsed and shaken to find that the Dark Lord had followers so loyal to him that they would do this despicable thing to themselves for him. None of the others in that hunting party would talk.

"Was anyone else hurt?" Harry asked, with a very dry mouth.

"Nah, and I wouldn't have been either if it weren't for getting in the way of a hex. Still can't figure out how it got me. Usually they just bounces off with little 'arm to me." Hagrid said with wonder. Changing the subject upon Harry's worried frown, he said, "heard yeh got yerself a little girlfriend."

"Well...yeah...no...she dated me...I guess...," Harry began awkwardly, but now that it was said aloud, it seemed too good to be true. Harry Potter had a girlfriend.

"A nice girl from a nice family," Hagrid said, approval in his voice, and Harry found it important to him that Hagrid and Lupin approved of Ginny.

Madam Pomfrey gave Hagrid some potions to take back out into the wilderness, though she was annoyed when he declined her suggestion that he stay the night, for Hagrid had always pretty much looked after himself. Saying goodbye to Hagrid, Harry wondered if Hagrid would ever get to see Madam Maxime, another half giant that he was interested in romantically. Now that Harry had Ginny, it became important to him to see his friends like Hagrid happy too.

After eating lunch with Ron and Hermione and catching a quick hug in the halls from Ginny, which boosted him immensely, they set off for transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. Harry was both pleased and annoyed to find a 'welcome back banner,' transformed from a flag which usually hung in it's place. The sign then transformed into an indoor roman candle which went off spectacularly to the applause of the assembled Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Harry couldn't help but smile. This would be a great afternoon and he was glad he had gotten up, after trying to talk himself into just staying in bed all day.

The fall sunshine played across the desks as Harry transformed a bronze knut into a candle holder. This was not elementary transfiguration, it was well beyond N.E.W.T. level, for Professor McGonagall had asked the Goblin at Gringotts not the take the anti defacing charm off the coins. No one had known at the start of class, that any person caught defacing public currency, would have an imprint welted up on his or her forehead of the particular coin in question on their foreheads. The only way to remove the imprint was to report to the Royal Wizarding Mint and clean dragon dung from the vaults under Gringotts for a week.

Professor McGonagall assured the horrified students who were sporting the imprints of Merlin on their foreheads, that their very special guest, Gryphook the Goblin from Gringotts Wizarding Bank, was here, and could easily erase the curse without punishment, because the bronze knuts they were practising on, were only proofs.

For once in all their years at Hogwarts, Harry and Ron were able to perform the transfiguration smoothly, while Hermione was sporting a very sharp picture of Merlin on her forehead, which she pulled her hair down to hide, like Harry had always done with his scar. It did not console her one bit when Gryphook removed the curse, even thought two thirds of the class had lined up to have it removed.

Since Hermione was now the object of Ron's affection, he tried to console her, not wanting to miss out on any snogging. Before they had become a couple, he would have laughed at her. It was an enjoyable afternoon for everyone, except Hermione.

Later that night, Ron sulked as Hermione hit the books, convinced she had to master the knut transfiguration right away, as though it were life or death. What was more, she had vaguely insinuated that she had spent so much time snogging with Ron, that she hadn't studied nearly enough. Anticipating a drop in his love life, Ron looked thoroughly depressed.

"You don't think she'd drop me, do you?' Ron asked miserably.

"No, Ron, get a grip," Ginny sighed. "It's just that you're going out with Hermione Granger, straight 'o' student and all around scholar, but I know she loves..." Ginny suddenly coughed, letting out a secret. "...likes you a lot."

"Love?...She loves me?" Ron asked, as Harry smiled behind his back, wondering why on Earth Ron was going to ask Hermione to marry him without this all important information at hand. The information swirled in Ron's mind. They had talked about what kind of houses they would like, and Hermione was pushing Ron, if possible, harder this year than any other, to do well in his studies when they could have gotten away with acceptable this year easily. Hermione Granger wouldn't waste her time unless she was serious about someone, so Ron now knew that Hermione could study all she needed and he would not be paranoid about it, but just the same, some heavy kissing later would make it all better.

Under ordinary circumstances, Harry would have been given a huge amount of homework and detention from Snape, but Madam Pomfrey had forbade this, due to his ongoing physical rehabilitation. None of the Gryffindors were particularly angry over Harry's having lost them one hundred points, after McGonagall had awarded him one hundred and fifty for being the first in the class to transform the bronze knut into a candle holder, despite the Anti Defacing Charm on it.

When Hermione was finally comfortable with the theory of how to transform the bronze knut, the four of them made their way to the Great Hall for supper.

"Hey, Potter, nice one, losing the Gryffindorks a hundred poinst. You must be very proud, being head dork and all." Malfoy taunted.

"Shove off Malfoy. He got them all back for transforming a bronze knut, and speaking of knuts, close your mouth or I'll transform yours!" Ginny threatened, not bothering to even look at the surly Slytherin. Harry decided he might as well get used to Ginny defending him. She'd been doing it since her first year at Hogwarts.

It was at that moment when Professor Moody limped in, having heard Ginny's threat to Malfoy.

"There will be no transfiguring body parts in the school! Someone could lose an eye...or a buttock!" he shuddered.

"Honestly Mad Eye, how many times do I have to ask you who you know that's lost a cheek?" Tonks asked in exasperation.

"If you really must insist upon knowing, NYMPHADORA," Moody said, emphasizing her first name, which she hated, "me!"

Tonks laughed hysterically, as Mad Eye described learning the hard way, never to stick your wand in your back pocket. All the males present, cringed, having stuck their wands down the front of the trousers, a far more tender area, more than once before.

"Stop! Stop, you're killing me," Tonks pleaded, laughing so hard, she looked about to faint from lack of oxygen as Moody Grumbled on.

"They make Skele Gro...you'd think they'd have something just as fast acting for...you know, the nether region, but it took months to grow back!"

Tears were now streaming down Tonks' face, and not one of them could hide their own splitting sides as they did everything they could not to laugh as well. "Are you sure..." Tonks giggled, "that you got it all back?" she finished, looking at the old Auror;s backside.

"Very funny, Nymphadora. Laugh it up...but don't forget, I was as pretty as you when I was a young Auror, you know," Moody growled.

"Sorry," Tonks stuttered, somewhat under control now. Aurors rarely made it to retirement age nowadays, and most who did, were maimed in some way. Still, Tonks wouldn't let this depress her. "You know, you could do some butt crunches...build up some muscle." She continued to howl with laughter. Malfoy had slinked off to his own dorms when the Aurors had arrived.

After the entertaining evening, provided by the two Aurors mostly, Harry was very tired. Madame Pomfrey had absolutely forbade Harry to enter the pool alone, so it was just the excuse to take Hermione, Ron and Ginny with him.

Ron and Ginny were proficient swimmers, having had lots of practice in the large pond near the burrow, and Hermione had had Muggle swimming lessons. Harry felt a little silly when Ginny started to swim proper strokes to his pathetic dog paddle, but he quickly changed his mind when she said she would help him learn by holding him under his stomach and instructing him sweetly how to use his arms and legs. This time, for this once, not being taught something as a child, was a good thing. 'She's touching my stomach!' Harry exclaimed to himself.

Always athletic, Harry caught on quickly, and everyone was pleased. Not knowing how to swim had always been a sore spot for him, as Dudley had been given swimming lessons.

On the way back to the Hospital Wing, and very exhausted now, Harry overheard Lavender telling Parvati Patil all about her Romeo and Juliet style romance with the 'big strapping Dudley.' It was obvious Lavender knew nothing of their home life because she could be heard bragging, "cousin of Harry Potter you know?" Harry was very modest and didn't know that these days, this would be seen as a definite asset. Ginny just rolled her eyes and steered Harry away before he could hear more, promising him a back rub to get him out of there quicker.

Harry wished Lavender would stop dreaming about Dudley. She wasn't a bad witch, a little flaky maybe, but she didn't deserve to be stuck with Dudley Dursley. Harry could well imagine the reaction of the Dursleys if Dudley brought home a witch, like his aunt had been. 'Then again,' Harry smiled to himself that would be a dictionary definition of poetic justice, their ickle Diddydums, a witch lover! If Harry was a vindictive person, and was sure he would never have to return to Privet Drive, he'd send Aunt Petunia a moving picture of her little baby boy, kissing the lips off Lavender Brown at the dance.

A month later, the daylight hours were shorter and the weather was unseasonably cold. The fireplaces were lit day and night with roaring fires. Already there had been the odd flakes of snow, melting upon contact with the ground.

The dragon protection act had been extended to where Sashu was residing with her babies, and Hagrid was back to full time teaching. Charlie and his friends had built themselves a lavish shelter near the dragon's new home to protect her from poachers, who would remain a threat.

By the end of November, Harry had gained enough strength with swimming daily, to lose the cane entirely, though he still walked with a noticeable limp. Madam Pomfrey was delighted that Ginny could make him eat his extra snacks daily, and though still thin, Harry did not look unhealthy anymore.

"Oh gross, Harry, just remember that's my sister!" Ron joked as Harry and Ginny crossed arms and held spoonfuls of ice-cream for one another.

Harry was also now able to join one of the more rigorous classes, Defence Against The Dark Arts with Professor Lupin at the beginning of December, with obvious exceptions, such as no duelling. It was admittedly a little boring having to cast spells without being allowed to be a proper sparring partner. At least he and the DA members in the class had already mastered the subject of today's lesson.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had all stayed behind to talk to Professor Lupin who had just returned from a particularly difficult transformation to werewolf. Seeing how ill the professor was, Hermione hoped her research on his condition would help him some way. Hermione jotted everything Lupin said down for later research, realizing, but not caring that her new interest in the incurable illness, was putting a definite strain on her study of her school subjects.

Lupin related all that had been learned of the spy who had impersonated him at the end October. "It seems the spy who disguised himself with Polyjuice Potion to become me, got more than he bargained for. Come November's first full moon, he half transformed into a werewolf. Of course, under the effects of the Dementor's Kiss Potion, he was oblivious to the fact, lucky fellow...he just laid there, entire torso transforming, not uttering a word or scream, according to professor Dumbledore. Lupin shook his main of shoulder length hair, as if trying to figure it all out too.

Harry had not been informed that the captured dragon hunter had been none other than Malcombe Edgecombe, the same man who had impersonated Lupin and who had been able to leave Hogwarts after Family Week due to lack of evidence against him. He must have been a very loyal Death Eater to have done so much for his master, including ingesting the Dementor's Kiss Potion to avoid questioning.

"Well," Lupin told them, sounding brighter as he took in Harry's pleased expression. "Tonks is taking me out to The Three Broomsticks. I don't know what she sees in me." Lupin smiled gravely in his sickened looking state.

"A good man," Hermione said stoically as the others nodded in affirmation.

"An old man maybe, I'm over twenty years older than she is, and look at her, she's gorgeous!"

Harry would have said, 'you're only as old as you feel,' but looking at Lupin in his unwell, post transformation state, he said instead,"If my mother were here, I don't think she'd like being called old, and you're about her and dad's age, so, you're young." The smile this statement about Lilly and James brought to Lupin's face, would have died there, as Lupin thought, 'and they never will age,' but Harry looked pleased with himself for having thought of this.

Even with Cho Chang off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, they still beat Hufflepuff spectacularly on one of the coldest early December matches ever. It was so cold, that Madam Pomfrey considered not letting Harry attend, lest he catch a chill. She had relented in the end, and talks were under way for Harry returning to the Gryffindor Dorms some time in the early new year, as long as he was compliant. From this point on, Harry was a star patient, not wanting Pomfrey changing her mind. He took all his potions exactly on time, exercised when he'd rather be doing other things, and didn't even grumble about the naps. Harry realized now, that Ron had given up a lot to bunk here with him in the Hospital Wing, particularly, the great Gryffindor parties.

The evening after the Quidditch match, the friends were served hot apple cider. The castle seemed almost dreary tonight, even with all the fireplaces aglow, and worst of all, Lavender Brown had asked Harry if she could join them for an evening, since she missed Dudley so much, and even Hermione had to admit, that Lavender had grown away from the gossip mill somewhat since October. Harry rolled his eyes as Lavender went on, not having the heart to tell her to get lost, as she related how, cute, big, cute, wonderful, cute, caring...and yes, cute Dudley was.

"Dudley told me Halloween is celebrated differently in Muggle families, something about getting dressed up costume and going door to door for sweets...fascinating!" Lavender exclaimed, asking for more information. Harry let Hermione explain trick or treating, as he had never been in his life. It had been Dudley who got to be Spiderman, Batman or whatever costume he demanded at the time, except one.

Harry had only now just realized. Dudley had begged, pleaded and even thrown a temper tantrum for Aunt Petunia to let him be a wizard for Halloween, complete with pointy hat, magic wand and broomstick. It had been one of the only things he had been flatly refused. That year, the rotund Dudley went as a butterfly, one that was too big to even hope for flight. Harry remembered Aunt Petunia being up all night letting out the costume which Dudley had outgrown before even eating the extra goodies Halloween would bring.

Harry had made the dreadful mistake of trying on Dudley's costume early that morning as Petunia finally went to bed. He ran around, arms outstretched in imaginary flight, when he fell over a small tea table. Needless to say, Harry hit back down to earth...hard, and was shoved back into the cupboard under the stairs for two days.

Harry got no candies at all, except for the rock hard molasses kisses candy Mrs Figg had left over from Halloweens out of count. Still, it was better than nothing, and he would sit for hours, staring at the wrappers of orange and black with witches flying on brooms on them, imagining them flying around the world. What they must see! Lavender of course, heard none of this. Hermione didn't even know this.

Lavender was also fascinated by the tradition of Muggles to tell scary stories on Halloween or around campfires. She suggested someone telling a scary story around the fireplace in Harry and Ron's room. It was Saturday and no one had to be up early.

Lavender wasn't being deliberately insensitive, but Harry thought to himself, "I've been living the scariest story you'll ever hear,' and Halloween was the night Harry's parents had died, so Ron, Hermione and Ginny all tried to change the subject at once, instead handing out long roasting forks, which they roasted treats Dobby had brought them and talked about different things. Soon, the marshmallows, hot Butterbeer and calabresse bread with cheese dip, had them all thinking happier thoughts.

It wasn't long before Lavender brought up Dudley again, asking how she could send him a Christmas present without offending the Dursleys. Hermione agreed to let Lavender send Dudley's present to her parents, who in turn, would send it Muggle post to the Dursleys. After all, Lavender had been injured in the battle on the grounds of Hogwarts, and she was a member of the DA. Lavender said she would charm the package to be scented Lavender, so Dudley would know who it was from. Ron thought he was going to be sick when Hermione and Ginny agreed that that was an adorable idea. "And I'll wrap it in brown paper for my last name," sighed Lavender, dreamily, thinking herself quite clever.

By December eleventh, Harry had missed two Potions classes. He didn't want to admit it, but as much as he tried not to paint all the Slytherins with the same brush as Malfoy, he didn't seem to be able to feel calm around them anymore. He didn't know if he was just paranoid since the kidnapping, but when he told Madam Pomfrey for the second time in a week, that he had a stomach ache, she wouldn't let him attend transfiguration either, which had become one of his favourite classes.

Harry was unsure as to why now, Snape's dark dank dungeons and office, seemed to shrink him into anxiety. At first, he believed his stomach aches were real, but as soon as Madam Pomfrey would excuse him from going, they would go away, leaving him in bed under her orders.

It was on this morning, that Professor Snape left his dungeon classroom to be presided over by none other than his star pupil, but one he loathed just the same, Hermione. "Good morning, Potter," he sneered sarcastically.

"Sir," Harry replied stiffly. Snape was in his room, so this could not possibly be a good morning.

"I've brought you something for your...stomach trouble, is it?" Snape informed Harry, holding a milky white substance in a glass vial.

"No thank you," Harry said, rather forcefully, shifting uncomfortably in his bed. He breathed a sigh of relief when Stephanie stepped into the room.

"Harry I thought you were feeling better. What's up? Oh, hello Severus," she said cordially.

"Ms Golden," Snape responded very brightly, for Snape anyway. "It seems our Mr Potter is experiencing some stomach trouble."

"Harry dear, this could be just nerves. Nothing to worry about. Madame Pomfrey says she'd examined you thoroughly and found nothing wrong really. Want to talk about it?" Stephanie asked kindly, not knowing she'd just dropped a bomb. 'Great!' thought Harry. 'Why don't we just hand Snape a medal for getting to me?'

"Tyler used to get stomach aches every fall before back to school time, until this school year that is," Stephanie recalled, in what she felt was an understanding way to let Harry know he wasn't alone. "Now, is it a particular class that's bothering you, or something else?" she prodded, like he would say anything in front of the hooked nosed "Potions Master.

"I'll come back later, Potter," Snape said silkily, but he sneered behind Stephanie's back at him.

"Oh, Severus, I didn't mean to interrupt. You go on. I'll come back." But in the end, they both stayed. Stephanie now tried her best not to pry, but she was concerned for him. She ended up asking and answering all her own questions, based on Harry's facial expressions. She knew it had to do with Snape, but not specifically what, nor would she ever find out. Harry found Stephanie very much like Mrs Weasley in these matters and he wondered if all mothers were like this, so forward. Harry could remember the twins cringing every time their mother would talk about the worst diaper rash she had ever seen... on and on.

"Severus? You teach in the, uh, basement?" Stephanie said, not wanting to insult his classroom by calling it a dungeon, thought that is exactly what it was.

"Yes," Snape replied, and Harry could hear a note of warning or insult go up, as he defended his 'basement' classroom.

"Some potions are very delicately balanced and sunlight would alter them irrevocably," he explained.

"Of course," Stephanie said diplomatically. "I was wondering if Harry might feel more comfortable with a bit more natural light?"

"I'm not a flower...or a baby!" Harry retorted angrily at this.

"You don't understand Harry. Sometimes when a person is exposed to more hours of natural light, they feel better. They sleep better too," she said, looking at the tell tale bags under Harry's eyes. "Perhaps missing most of the summer and now we're in the early winter, the weather is affecting you."

Harry hated being analysed, even though there was a ring of truth to what she was saying. "I appreciate your concern," Harry said, "but I'll manage." Harry would never tell Ron or Hermione or even Ginny why he was missing so much school lately. It wasn't the darkness. He was used to that from having been locked away for so much of his life. Well maybe that was partially it. He honestly didn't know, but he did know that being with the Slytherins, whose behaviour was unchallenged in Snape's classroom, was not safe.

"So," Snape said, breaking through his thoughts, "What you are saying, is that Mr Potter is suffering from cold feet?"

"That's not what I said," Stephanie held up her hand to Harry's immediate indignant look.

"I think I quite agree with Ms Golden here, Mr Potter. You may do your potions up here in the sunshine of the Hospital Wing for the rest of the month, but I will expect you to have made a full recovery by the new year from whatever you are suffering from and report to class properly prepared. I may remind you that in the short time you have rejoined us, you have not been performing up to N.E.W.T. standards. Were it not for your special circumstances, I would have kicked you out of my class long ago.

Harry was an inch from saying, 'Yeah? Well if weren't for your boss, I wouldn't have 'special circumstances' now would I!' Stephanie felt Snape had been much too hard on Harry and she'd never seen his true colours before. Truth was, this was nothing. They had to agree to disagree about what was to be done for Harry.

By the fifteenth of December, Harry of course, had miraculously stopped having stomach aches, this being the last day of school for Christmas break. Madam Pomfrey had mostly known that his symptoms had been brought on by stress, and she felt he was entitled to it. She had dealt with many many stomach aches, real and imagined, brought on by anything from stress to Fred and George's Skiving Snack Boxes. If anyone deserved to skip a few classes in peace, it was Harry.

It was the largest snowfall so early in the history of Hogwarts. Everyone bundled up to go outdoors. Hermione melted a path for Harry to walk through, or he wouldn't have been able to come. Ginny held his hand tightly as they enjoyed the glistening flakes of snow. As they made their way along, Angelina, who was coming from the greenhouses, threw a snowball at George. "Hey, am I invited?'

"Of course!" Fred answered, returning the volley while his twins shook the snow from his collar. Soon, everyone was involved, and Harry was glad no one was holding back like usual. He was hit squarely several times.

Ginny flopped down in the snow and made a snow angel, which George promptly drew horns on.

"Very funny!" Ginny laughed, hitting George squarely in the back of the head with a large wet snowball. When everyone was wet and cold, they made their way back to the school. Tomorrow would be the first Hogsmeade trip and the day after that, the Hogwarts Express would take all those who were going home to King's Cross station. Hermione's parents would be joining Hermione at the school this year and Ron, for one, was more than pleased that she was staying. With all the Weasleys here, he'd have been stuck here without her for sure.

Harry began thinking of what he would get Ginny for their Christmas together as a couple. She, like her brothers, was sensitive about money issues, but he wanted to get her something nice...no, really nice, and so, he turned to the one person who could be depended on to find out what Ginny would like. He didn't get the answer he wanted.

"What do you think she would like?" Hermione asked, turning the question back to Harry. He hated when she did this.

'I...I don't know. I wouldn't be asking you if I knew, would I? She never seems to want anything," Harry said in wonder, thinking of all the girls he'd heard bragging about what they were getting for Christmas this year.


	49. Falling For You

Security had never been tighter in Hogsmeade. Despite possible loss of revenue, the mayor of Hogsmeade, with the blessing of most of the businesses operated there, had agreed to a one day closure of all Floo accesses into the town. This was quite a major inconvenience for the few homeowners that found themselves in the no Floo boundry, who had been made to submit to home inspections to ensure that their own personal floo was properly closed. Further, anyone caught Apparating into or out of Hogsmeade during the elevated security measures, would be sentenced to a term in Azkaban. Though the threat of the legendary prison had diminished somewhat since the Dementors had abandoned it, it still held a certain amount of fear. Everyone knew even these drastic security measures would not deter Voldemort entirely.

Harry was looking forward to seeing Fred and George's new small satellite store. The twins were on security detail, so the tour would not take place until afternoon. Mrs Weasley had finally relented to let them perform small duties for the Order as their nineteenth birthday approached. They would be joining the Order as full, active members in a little over three months, April first, their nineteenth birthday.

O the morning of the Hogsmeade visit, Hogwarts students were preparing to shop, gift lists in hand. Professor McGonagall approached the group, accompanying Harry. Harry was sure she was about to tell them all that Harry couldn't come, or Madam Pomfrey would veto his leaving the school, but it turned out to be nothing of the sort.

"I am to be your escort today," she informed the group. "Surely you didn't think we would send Mr Pot...all of you on to Hogsmeade alone. "Honestly, I don't think you'll find I cramp your style or hinder any hand holding. I'm merely here to keep an eye on things," she added more softly, though looking at Harry.

"Things...me," Harry thought, catching her drift. Still, it was better than Snape, besides, he noted with a grin, she had traded her usual black hat in for her festive tartan one with the ugly thorn wreath on it, so she must be feeling festive.

Having Professor McGonagall around had it's other pluses as well. The Slytherins didn't even dare leer at them as Professor McGonagall bought them all Butterbeer in The Three Broomsticks.

Harry and his friends did have to go to a few places in the village they had never bothered going to in the past, like the baker's shop. This as it turned out, was where McGonagall had gotten all those delicious shortbread cookies and ginger newts she was always so famous for having around. When McGonagall was finished shopping, she also purchased some candy moulds and a candy thermometer. They were now curious why she didn't just go to Honeydukes and buy her candy like everyone else.

"Well Albus, Professor Dumbledore I mean of course, likes some of the discontinued Muggle sweets, so I'm going to make some Sherbert Lemons and Sugar Daddies as a Christmas present. You know his sweet tooth," she smiled.

"Wow, first knitting, now cooking," Hermione whistled quietly as McGonagall paid for her purchases.

"What about it?" Ron and Harry asked at once as Ginny and Hermione just rolled their eyes.

"Don't you see?" Ginny asked.

"See what?" Ron asked impatiently.

"She fancies Dumbledore," Hermione smiled.

"What! How do you know?" Harry piped in.

"You don't just make candy for anyone," Hermione explained, as though this should have been clear. "Also, didn't you see all the sweaters, hats and mittens she's made him. He must like her too, because he's never worn anything like that before. He's always charmed the air around him to remain warm for the most part.

'Hmmmmm, make something,' Harry thought, but what? So for good measure, he picked out a lovely new blue wool coat with matching scarf and mitts with Hermione's help of course, while Ginny's looked like it had seen better days. Fred and George had been going to take care of this, but it gave Harry something to get, besides, Harry thought, 'they would probably have charmed the coat to cause a snow cloud to follow her everywhere she went in it or something, knowing them,'

Professor McGonagall did not rush them as they took their time at Honeydukes, with Kingsley Shaklebolt standing right outside the door of the most popular place in the village for the students.

The best part of the day was spending time at the twins new small store, right by the Shrieking Shack, ironically, guarded by Professor Lupin. Harry could have sworn he'd seen Percy Weasley out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't mention it. Dudley had told Harry what Percy had said about wanting to come back, but he wouldn't tell the Weasleys. He just wanted a good Christmas for once, just once.

It wasn't long before Harry began to have doubts if it was his own personal feelings for what Percy had done to him, not once, but twice and what he had put his family through, that was keeping him from telling the Weasleys about this.

Looking around at the Weasleys, especially Ginny, Harry remembered the first time he had seen their home, lovingly referred to as 'the Burrow.' For some reason, what struck Harry the most about this warm inviting house, was that there was a staircase, but no cupboard under the stairs. Somehow, he'd wondered where he would he be 'put' while he stayed at Ron's, and some very unwell part of his brain from all the years of abuse suffered at the Dursleys, made him instinctively look for a cupboard under the stairs; after all, he wasn't a family member, he was just a misplaced friend of Ron's, or so he'd thought at the time. Ron had been unable to contain his pity when his friend's eyes had automatically darted to the space under the stairs, so he started to steer Harry away from that, instead showing him more of the unusual places in the Burrow, which to Ron's relief, Harry loved. Ron had never seen the cupboard under the stairs where Harry had been locked away as a child, but the twins had, and they had told him about it in private.

Harry decided if he couldn't stop daydreaming, he'd never have a good day, so he tried to push it all out of his mind. If Percy wanted back in, well, it was Percy's business, and he was going to have to deal with it himself. It wasn't Harry's problem, and he wasn't going to think on it any more...yeah right. Harry held onto Ginny tightly as he walked on the slightly slippery cobbled paths of Hogsmeade. One slip and he knew everyone would have him back to the Hospital Wing before you could say, 'bah humbug!'

It had been quite a workout for Harry to remain steady on the icy cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, but Ginny walked arm in arm with him. Looking out the joke shop window, Harry saw Lupin warming his hands over a barrel fire, and felt somewhat guilty for all the extra security measures that had been taken on his behalf, until he saw a smiling Tonks toss a snowball at her new boyfriend and bring him a warm Butterbeer. Tonks was still a young woman, and Harry wondered if the two would ever have children, until he remembered that Lupin, being a werewolf, may not be able to have a child. Harry thought maybe Remus and Tonks could adopt perhaps if their relationship went so far as marriage, but then he remembered the Ministry's stance on werewolves, and with Tonks having such a horribly dangerous job, the two of them would be lucky to get a rat from them.

Bringing Harry out of his daydreams, Ginny said, "Harry, promise me you won't gag when you see what mom knit you for Christmas." She would tell him nothing more then, other then, "It's ghastly," but secretly, Ginny loved it.

"Promise," Harry swore, and no matter how ghastly, he'd wear it at least once in front of Mrs Weasley.

'I ordered something for your parents, too," Harry told her. "Though I'm worried it won't arrive on time, because I haven't been able to tell the store where to deliver it, as we don't where we're staying for the holidays yet."

"It's kind of a surprise for you, Harry," Ginny said excitedly, but I've kept it secret for two days, and I can't do it anymore. Professor Dumbledore says he can muster up enough security for Christmas Eve and Christmas day at the Burrow...home Harry. Oh, it'll be so great being home for the holidays, even though after those two days we have to go to Grimmauld Place for about a week and then back here to good old Hogwarts. They say if we stay on the move, it'll be make it harder for any attacks to be planned, even though it makes security a real pain."

Fred and George's shop boasted almost as many sweets as Honeydukes, though no one was very keen to try them out, no matter how delicious they looked. Harry got an evil grin as Hermione asked him what he was thinking. This would be the year when he would send Aunt Petunia a gift to let them know how much he had always appreciated their oh so lovely gifts of years past, such as knobbly old yellow socks that had been cast away by Vernon, or a single tissue or a toothpick. Harry knew Petunia probably hadn't let up on the alcohol, especially given the events of the past summer, so Fred and George gave him their famous liquor filled chocolates, which rendered the partaker invisible or smelling of Stinksap for an hour or two. Harry had it arranged for Hermione's parents to mail it under an assumed name, knowing Aunt Petunia wouldn't be able to resist and would probably just think the chocolate was from a Grunning's client.

Harry was still at a loss as to what else to get Ginny, and he was very apprehensive about what he had chosen to give the Weasleys, at least the first part of it, which was why he had made sure to purchase something he considered safe, incase he chickened out of giving them what he had planned originally. He had remembered Mrs Weasley having gotten Bill and Charlie to set up tables outdoors, because there had not been enough room around the table for all of them. He had bought them a very fine carved oak dining table with arm chairs to spare. Luckily, Professor McGonagall had just solved the delivery problem when she had learned of the gift. She asked Bill and Charlie to pick it up before Christmas to bring it to the Burrow.

Harry had a sense of humour when he bought Hermione's present. It was an autographed cookbook by a very famous witch, and Harry had it inscribed "good luck in your cooking Ron!" This was her gag gift. Her real present was a gold embossed guide to magical creatures with a large section dedicated to house-elves, so he guessed she'd like it.

As they walked past a news stand, Harry got Ginny to linger behind with him as they giggled, buying Ron a joke newspaper, which looked absolutely authentic. The headline read, 'Chudley Cannons take the cup!' The article detailed the furious battle on the Quidditch pitch, including altered moving photos of the Chudley Cannons high fiving each other in the air, instead of the usual slow, slouched touch downs and race to the change rooms. Harry didn't know how Ron would feel about his next gift, so he tried him out by asking a few fake questions.

"Ginny wants to go see that new play that's opening on the first of April here in Hogsmeade by a small theatre company about when Witches finally got the right to vote. In truth, Ginny could take it or leave it, but Hermione on the other hand had gone on and on about it, and there was no way Ron could afford the tickets. Harry decided that he would buy Ron the tickets...and in a round about way, thinking as only a teenage boy could, Ron would get the good out of the tickets later when Hermione would be so thrilled at going.

As Harry approached the ticket office, while Hermione and Ginny looked in shop windows, he couldn't resist himself. He bought Fred and George tickets as well for they and their dates, thinking that this would pay them back for all the pranks over the years, having to spend their birthdays at a girly play. "April fools," said Harry under his breath, enjoying shopping much more than he had ever done. Harry was surprised to see Professor McGonagall purchase a block of tickets for gift giving as well.

Hagrid was next on Harry's list. Harry bought Hagrid a book on magical healing for animals, now that Hagrid was using a proper wand and all. Hagrid had always been patching up his 'critters.'

Harry couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as Ron carefully steered Hermione away from any vendor who was selling tickets to the play on women's voting rights, with a special tribute to Madame Modesty Rabnott, who had a golden snidget reserve named after her for having gone against the minister of magic himself over a hundred years ago. Giving would be definitely be better then receiving this year, not to mention more fun.

At this point in Harry and Ginny's relationship, Harry knew that she had his heart, but he didn't know what to get that wouldn't seem out of place, but wouldn't be too casual either. A nasty thought was never far from the surface of this thoughts as he felt that any day may be the last one with her. He decided to set Christmas as a goal to live through, then Spring, and so on, one day at a time, until Voldemort would finally come, engulfing his mind, body and soul in a fight to the death.

As Professor McGonagall owned only a few hats which she put on rotation according to the time of year, Harry bought her a very nice hat, black velvet, but instead of a thorn wreath, an ivy one to match the green in her tartan Christmas outfit she wore every year he could remember. When Ginny teased him for remembering such detail, he became very serious, telling her exactly what she had worn every Christmas since he had known her. She was flabbergasted.

Remembering Dumbledore's lament in front of the Mirror of Erised, a mirror which showed your heart's desire, Harry bought Dumbledore seven pairs of heavily insulated socks, for Dumbledore had always said no one ever got him something practical, like socks. At the same store, he found some novelty socks for Dobby, no stain, no smell, black socks, guaranteed fresh for a month!"

As they passed Ollivander's Wand Shop, Harry fell on the ice. Professor McGonagall gasped as Ginny knelt next to him, but there was no cause for concern. Harry had been using his cane in the icy areas, as recommended by Madam Pomfrey, but it had gone skittering out from under him. As Ginny was helping him up, she fell down as well, and they all laughed heartily. When they finally got to their feet, still laughing, they found that were at least seven Order members circling them, wands drawn to the outer circle in another huge over reaction to a minor fall. As the Order members dispersed, a group of Slytherins led by Draco Malfoy, shouted, 'Boo!' at them and shrieked with laughter.

It was time for a break and as Professor McGonagall asked Harry for the tenth time if he was sure he was okay, he could have sworn he heard her mutter, 'Zambonias Slipperius!' as Draco's group slipped and fell like dominoes on what looked like freshly created ice under their feet. The head of Gryffindor house, wore a distinctly smug expression as she murmured softly, "Oh dear, they really should put some salt down there, it's ever so slippery."

Harry decided to get Neville a new case for his new wand at Olivanders, and Mr Olivander was very pleased to see him. Mr Ollivander expressed his sympathies to Harry for his long recovery, but was pleased that the wand that he had sold him had served him so well. Ginny had been admiring the window display, never having had a new wand of her own.

Harry knew it couldn't be a surprise, but it was now that he decided what he would get Ginny. He wanted to get her a new wand. Ginny was reluctant to accept such an expensive gift, but Harry put on his best charm, imploring her that Sirius would want him to enjoy his inheritance to it's fullest. Harry told Ginny that Mrs Black would turn over her grave if he bought her, a Blood Traitor, as Mrs Black had screamed at her, a gift with the Black family fortune. Ginny laughed, as this pleased her in memory of Sirius, plus, she could see that Harry, though he'd never admit it, was getting cold and tired and she wanted to get back to Hogwarts to rest. It was also time for his potions.

By the time they reached The Three Broomsticks, Harry was freezing in the unseasonably cold air, though they had performed a Warming Charm on his cloak. Harry blushed deeply as Madam Rosmerta, proprieter of the Three Broomsticks, wrapped a warm blanket around his shoulders, but couldn't help but smile at the slightly wistful look on Ron's face as she had done so. Hermione always knew that Ron had found the woman rather attractive, despite the large age gap. Madam Rosmerta was older than Professor Lupin. Ginny found herself readjusting the blanket, just to prove she 'had it covered.' Harry felt proud the way she fussed over him, and he couldn't have been more pleased then when she had stopped off to donate her old wand to a charity shop.

As Ginny had handed Harry his many potions, a flashbulb went off before any of them could protest, and the man who had taken the picture was long gone. No one was supposed to be Apparating in Hogsmeade this day, and now, Professor McGonagall gave the alert to the Order and ushered them all out of the bar where they were joined by other students who were disgruntled at having their shopping day cut short because of a photograph. They now walked with the Order plainly in sight, instead of trying to look casual.

"Prefer to have your lives cut short?" growled Moody, stomping along on his wooden leg.

Back at the castle, Madam Pomfrey ordered Harry to bed, saying he looked peaked, and in truth, he felt tired, but he decided he would let the Order figure out what the picture was all about.

The cool crisp cotton sheets of summer had been put away and replaced with the most wonderfully soft flannel Harry had ever felt. The friends, now joined by Luna and Neville, all decided to put on their pajamas to warm up.

Ginny teased Harry about flannel sheets and flannel pajamas causing a spark if he tossed and turned too much. As the rest of the castle packed to go home, they enjoyed a relaxing evening of exploding snap. Neville and Luna gave Harry a very large poinsettia before they were to go pack.

"Oh, I'll have to keep Crookshanks away from this," Hermione said. "They're poisonous."

"Actually, this one's not poisonous, and besides, look," Neville pointed at Crookshanks putting the large red leaves right under his flat nose. Crookshanks began knawing on the red leaves at once, at which point, the branches began to flick the ginger cat on the nose.

"I call it a Womping Poinsettia," said Neville proudly. "Earned Griffindor a hundred points for most original Christmas plant. I thought for sure Slytherin would get it. Blaise Zabini grew a new kind of Mistletoe. It grabs any two people under it and pulls them together with it's tentacles and puts them together. Of course, you can see the implications," he laughed. "Dean Thomas and Seamus were going to hex Blaise hairless when they were forced lip to lip for almost a minute. Poor Seamus went around kissing his girlfriend every five minutes after that, and Dean spent the rest of the day talking about Quidditch and staying as far away from Seamus as possible."

Blaise had lost Slytherin fifty points from Snape no less, who was less than impressed. No one could ever remember the head of Slytherin taking points from his own house, that was until of course Snape had found himself the unlikely recipient of a very long kiss from Professor Sprout, who had walked under Blaise's mistletoe at the same time.

Harry enjoyed listening to the happy banter as Ginny smiled at his heavy eyelids. Despite the photo incident at Hogsmeade, Harry felt very safe and warm and he dropped off to sleep. Everyone tip toed out, as Ginny kissed him lightly and pulled the blankets up to his chest and stood gazing at him for a full minute before leaving. It was only seven thirty, but she hoped that Harry would sleep through the night. Madam Pomfrey was surprised to find him sleeping when she brought him potions and she debated waking him or letting him sleep. He would wake sore in the morning without them, but she could take care of that, so she decided the sleep would do him better.

The sun shining through the window in the morning surprised Harry, who thought he was waking from a short nap. The beams of light made Harry aware that it was very late. He had slept until noon. As he moved to get up, he knew something wasn't right. He had missed his evening and morning potions. He sat up as waves of intense pain streaked down his spine into his legs. He drew a sharp intake of breath and stood. It dawned on him, with some concern, that he might be addicted to his potions if doing without them caused this much excruciating pain. Harry had gone very pale, and when Ron came in to see if he was up yet, he ordered Harry to lie back down while he went to get Madam Pomfrey.

"Oh, Mr Potter, I see you're awake, and you have forgotten all about the pain tablets I left you in your night stand should you ever need them," she said with concern.

'Well, I just thought maybe I didn't need them anymore. I was worried that I was relying on them too much." This statement caused the Matron to look at Harry with sympathy, but also admiration.

"No, Mr Potter, you are not addicted to your potions. I have been steadily decreasing your dosage, but you do still really need to take what I give you. You will actually heal better while on the pain medicine, because you won't slouch and your spine will heal better in it's natural position. One of your potions is called 'No Knot,' so you don't experience the heavy back spasms as your spine heals. The other ones here are strong restoratives and pain relief potions. Don't feel bad that you still need them, just be glad they exist. A hundred years ago medicines for this type of thing were about as effective as the Muggle methods and you'd have been lucky to have lived at all, let alone walk again. Harry took the potions without question now, appreciating them more now than before.

"See?" Madam Pomfrey said, noticing the immediate smoothing of the frown on Harry's forehead from the relief of pain. Just listen to your body. If it hurts while on your potions, then stop what you're doing...and don't worry so much," she advised, taking her leave.

The leftover pain was still evident on Harry's handsome features when he came out to lunch. Ginny knew right away that he wasn't quite well. She rubbed his shoulders and got him some pancakes, which he accepted with some degree of apprehension, worried that she had made them. "Don't worry, they're Stephanie's. It's Tyler's birthday and she makes these special for him on his birthday.

Tyler hadn't mentioned his birthday to Harry and he felt kind of bad that he hadn't gotten the boy who had saved his life anything. He decided to give Tyler his Christmas present early and pick something up later for Christmas. Harry switched the tag from Merry Christmas to Happy Birthday on the large basket of Honeydukes sweets he had bought him. Harry had spent several excruciating moments trapped under that tree while Tyler and Snape had been begging him not to go to sleep, lest he not wake again, telling the boy about Bertie Bott's every flavour Beans. He smiled, hoping Tyler wouldn't get Sardine for his first one like he had.

Everyone gathered at the windows to watch the carriages depart, taking the students home. Hermione hadn't expected her parents to arrive today, so it was a nice surprise when the lone carriage travelling away from the Hogsmeade Station, brought them to her. Tyler's face lit up as his father got out of the carriage after the Grangers.

While everyone sang happy birthday to Tyler and the large cake was brought out, Harry held hands with Ginny under the table, glad someone else was the centre of attention for a change.

Tyler's Grandmother noticed a change in Harry right away since she had seen him last in October for Family Week that those seeing him every day had not. "You've gained some of your weight back lad," she said approvingly. The swimming everyday was helping and now that Harry had a girlfriend to impress, he made sure to eat all of his meals.

"Well, Ginny, you practice your cooking and maybe you can make something for Harry again," Mrs Weasley suggested. Then Mrs Weasley leaned over to tell Mrs Granger something. Harry overheard her tell Hermione's mother that she was going to teach Ginny how to cook and some basic first aid and minor healing as well. Harry thought Ginny would make a wonderful Healer. 'Great, I'll need to live with a healer by the time I have to fight Voldemort, if I live through it," Harry thought miserably.

As they sat enjoying Helen's homemade cake, the strangest thing happened. Snape came in long enough to give Tyler a package, fully gift-wrapped, declining cake and leaving before the package was even opened. As Tyler opened it, Harry saw a large very ornate wooden box with a strong hinge and lock set. The box contained a very expensive assortment of potions ingredients, well beyond the needs of a student. Tyler was very pleased and Harry was happy that the boy had melted so seamlessly into the magical world, but he was still apprehensive about the closeness of the usually surly and reclusive Snape.

Tyler's father had gotten him a large globe of the world on a fine oak stand, but as Tyler looked it over appreciatively, a wide grin spread over his face. Professor Dumbledore had kindly helped Howard label many of the magical villages like Hogsmeade onto it. "Wow, dad thanks!" Tyler exclaimed, throwing his arms around his father. "This will give me something to remember my time with you all here," he smiled. Looking around at them all, eyes coming to rest fondly on Harry. Harry would miss this boy once he had to leave, which the time hadn't been decided, and Harry hoped it wouldn't be soon. Most of Tyler's gifts were academic in nature, so Harry was kind of glad he had gotten the boy something frivolous. "Let him be a kid,' Harry thought to himself.

Harry decided he'd like to see the Gryffindor common rooms which he hadn't seen all this year. He and Ron couldn't find the girls, who were off gift wrapping, so they made their way through the castle which wasn't quite as eery as it usually was when empty. Dumbledore had insisted on lavish Christmas decorations just for the remaining few, which brightened everything considerably. Neville, Dean and Seamus had a lot of extra room now that Ron bunked with Harry in the hospital wing, but the two were glad to see that not all traces of them were gone from the boys dorms. The Chudley Cannons poster was still right where Ron had left it, right next to Dean's poster of the Muggle football team. Hedwig's perch was still in place for when the owl had spent the night a few times with him over the years. Harry so looked forward to returning to these dorms soon.

As time past with reminiscing, Ron mentioned a winter walk he had planned with Hermione, and as the two made their way to the portrait of the Fat Lady to leave, Hermione and Ginny were just coming in, Ginny as a replacement guard for Harry no doubt, he thought. Ron politely asked if they wanted to join he and Hermione on a walk, looking like he hoped they'd decline.

"No, I haven't been here for awhile. I think I'll stay, thanks," Harry told Ron. Finally, he and Ginny would get some alone time. Ginny plopped down on Seamus' bed. 'Not a good idea,' he told himself when she gestured for him to join him, but he couldn't help himself, so walked right over and sat next to her. They spent the rest of the afternoon kissing, returning to the Hospital Wing very flushed, having decided that more alone time was a bad idea right now.

"Mr Potter, you're very flushed. Are you feeling alright?" Madam Pomfrey asked him, placing a hand on his forehead. "Have you been exercising?"

"Purely cardiovascular," Harry answered quite truthfully. His all encompassing desire for Ginny had made his heart beat like a jack hammer."

"Good for you, dear," Madam Pomfrey complimented. "Keep it up, Harry," she encouraged, as he and Ginny fought hard not to laugh. That was what he wanted to avoid!

"Yeah, Harry, keep it up!" teased Ginny as they left to go outdoors so Harry could cool off.

"Oh, you're evil, Ginny Weasley," Harry blushed deeply, catching what she meant. He was glad he was with her for every first in his life, having discounted his kiss with Cho as nothing more than something forgettable. Harry knew he was getting carried away when he felt he could have knelt in the snow right here and now and professed his love for her.

He wondered if he was feeling rushed to be a family with Ginny because he didn't want his obituary, should he die fighting Voldemort, to be so empty. He hoped it would at least read, 'survived by his loving wife Ginny...' Instead of 'Orphan son of the late... but no,' he told himself resolutely, he wanted her, but he would wait to make sure he wouldn't leave her a widow. Needless to say, the thoughts of Voldemort had more than ruined the exciting feelings of the afternoon, but Harry did not let it diminish his new found hopes for a future.

A/N Well, we are approaching the last chapters. After Christmas, which will be the next chapter, the rest of the story will deal with the lead up and final battle and the cure to Lycanthropy. There was only one person who came close to the ingredients for a potion to cure Lycanthropy and I will announce it next week. Thanks so much for the great responses. You guys crack me up! All that has been lead up to, will be resolved in the last chapters and I really appreciate the awesome reviews. It makes me feel so good! Please keep reviewing.


	50. Dead Like Fred

Entering Grimmauld Place for the first time since Sirius had died was made more bearable for Harry by having the Weasleys protectively surrounding him. Dobby and Winky, who had come to stay for the holidays, had done what they could to clean and brighten the place, despite Kreature's constant death threats toward Harry in particular.

Buckbeak could be heard chafing at the bit to see them and Harry felt almost glad to be here, when none other than Hagrid and Charlie came down the stairs with the large beast.

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed happily, throwing his arms around the giant.

"Didn't think I'd miss Christmas with yeh' did yeh' Harry?" Hagrid asked, eyes very bright.

Harry didn't know what to say, feeling very overwhelmed at the moment as Mrs Weasley hugged Charlie fiercely. He didn't know what to feel. Sirius had never liked this place, his old ancestral home, but this was really the only place he had spent any significant amount of time with the man.

Everyone was starkly reminded that this was the so called right and noble house of Black when Mrs Black's screaming at the sight of the Mudbloods and usurpers who, in her opinion were trespassers, rang out in the hall. They all tried to ignore the eery portrait's screams as best they could. Harry began to feel very claustrophobic in the cramped entrance way, though the Weasleys hardly noticed the tight space. In a moment of daydream, Harry wondered when Sirius would stop his mother's infernal screams and call for silence, and then it happened...

The portrait bellowed, "Filthy no good son of mine! I could be proud while he sat in Azkaban for supporting our lord, then the filthy scum denounced his noble acts of murder and professed innocence! The shame! The wretched shame that breaks a mother's heart!" Mrs Black wailed, as if the fact that Sirius was innocent disgusted her no end.

Harry wasn't even aware of feeling himself move toward the portrait as he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He didn't remember his wand leaving his robe, grasped unconsciously in his outstretched hand. Before anyone knew what was coming, Harry freaked out completely. He screamed like a madman at the portrait of the supposed mother.

"How dare you call yourself a mother!" Harry bellowed. Mrs Weasley moved to calm Harry down, when Dumbledore placed a hand of restraint on her shoulder, nodding silently.

"You were not a mother! And let's get one thing straight, this is not the noble house of Black any longer! Sirius hated it here! I will not say he hated you, because I prefer to think my Godfather had better feelings than that, but he hated this house, and he hated this hateful pose of you! So get out! This is my house now! Sirius may not have been able to get rid of you, maybe he didn't have the heart in his spell because of who you were supposed to be? But I? I have no problem with it! Get out of my house, and take your Pureblood, rich witch, lousy mother domain out of here!" For a moment, everyone expected to hear a rebuttal, and they weren't disappointed, but before the portrait could finish condemning Harry for being improperly brought up by cowards and traitors, the portrait burst into flames. They were spared watching Mrs Black burn as she ran screaming from the portrait with no where to go but oblivion.

Harry's shoulders were heaving as he sat heavily onto the steps, a few tears betraying his angry face. Dumbledore congratulated Harry for getting the hideous portrait to go away, but Harry felt disturbed by what he'd done. Ginny led him into the kitchen and handed him a strong cup of tea, while Mrs Weasley made lunch.

There were echos of 'well done,' and many thanks from Order members who were about that day working in the peaceful silence gratefully.

After lunch Harry felt the need to cover the now empty spot where Mrs Black had stood all these years. He asked to Tonks, who had been a relative of Sirius' to pick a suitable wallpaper for the spot.

"I know!" Tonks said mischievously, as wallpaper covered in white Lilys all over it appeared all down the hall. "Sirius' mom hated flowers, and so, in honour of your mom, since this is your house now, ta da!" Tonks laughed, seeking Harry's approval.

The wallpaper was very busy, like Tonks, but Harry fought the lump in his throat to thank her for her thoughtfulness.

Harry felt awkward, this being his house now, and everyone asking him where they should put their things and where to bunk and so on. It was too much for him so soon. This was Sirius' house. Ginny suggested to take some of the burden off Harry until he was used to things, to ask Dobby to be in charge of the day to day running of this house while they would be here.

"Dobby is honoured sir!" the house- elf squeaked as Winky promised to help, but out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Kreature, the former house- elf of the Blacks, scurry away in absolute disgust as the two Hogwarts elfs were asked to take over. Kreature had not cared for the house at all since his mistress had passed away, and had never served Sirius while he was the master of the house at all.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly, and Harry, too tired for guessing games, asked, "What is it Hermione?"

"Wages, Harry," she prodded forcefully.

"Oh yeah!" Harry realized, slapping his already dull achy head. "I will pay you of course, and if you need time off, just take it," Harry offered, feeling even these details too big to settle with the way he felt right now. It was as if everyone had forgotten that coming home to Grimmauld Place without Sirius would be very painful for him. They hadn't meant to be insensitive. It had just happened.

"Dobby will draw Harry Potter a bath. Sir looks tired," Dobby insisted, rather than asked.

Harry enjoyed the nice hot bath with scented oils that Dobby had blended to relax him. He lost an hour just soaking in the temperature controlled water.

"Harry?" came Ginny's voice. "You must be all pruned up in there by now." She strode in, bold as brass with a warmed towel and sat down at the end of the tub near his shoulders, gently rubbing his neck. He was very glad for the everlasting soap bubbles. Harry turned on the cold water tap with his toe before ordering her to turn around and wrapping himself in the blanket sized towel she had brought him. He shivered slightly from the cold water he seemed to need whenever Ginny was around at times like these.

"You've got to stop doing that to me," he sighed in exasperation, wondering if Ron had this trouble whenever Hermione was around, but vowing never to ask...ever!

"Why, whatever do you mean, Mr Potter?" Ginny asked slyly before slipping out so he could get dressed.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should stop coming in at times like this before you find you can't resist me any longer!" Harry laughed, trying to sound seductive from behind the closed door. The bath he had used was an ensuite, leading both to his own room and the hallway on the other side. Harry was just musing some more rather risky thoughts out loud to his girlfriend in a playful manner, when he opened the door to the hallway by mistake, and there, standing, ready for a bath, was none other than Mr Weasley, bathrobe and loofa sponge in hand, with a very scarlet Mrs Weasley, also in a bathrobe, holding a rubber ducky for Mr Weasley. Harry didn't know how much they had heard of the conversation he had just had with Ginny, but he suspected by the looks on their faces, pretty much all of it.

Harry felt his face getting extremely hot as he looked tentatively down the hallway for any signs of Ginny, who he had presumed had been standing just on the other side of this door waiting for him to finish dressing.

Mr Weasley would have had more to say if he hadn't found himself standing there sneaking off for a bath with his wife as well. Mr Weasley kept dodging around Harry's profile in the doorway, expecting to see his only daughter standing behind Harry in various states of undress. Figuring this out, as Mr Weasley resignedly bent to the side to peer into the room, Harry began talking very fast, feeling faint.

"Uh...er...you don't understand...I was only talking to myself in there," Harry hastily explained, not realizing in time what his statement to Ginny about 'not being able to stop,' would sound like, coming from someone who was supposedly alone. "I mean...I want...really! I haven't! It was Ginny," he said lamely. Oh great, now he'd brought her name up. He couldn't have made this more awkward if he'd tried. This day just seemed to get better and better.

The worst part of it all was the Weasley's 'understanding' of what they had assumed had taken place. Phrases like 'perfectly normal and natural and healthy,' were all bantered about, until Harry felt like he would fall through the floor with embarrassment, and through it all, Ginny remained in a silent fit of giggles behind the other door leading from the bathroom. Harry couldn't try to explain that he'd been talking to their only daughter, through a door, innocently enough as it was for the most part, without getting the dreaded 'birds and bees' talk, so he left it go at that, and wished them happy bath and promised to make Ginny pay later.

Dinner was an awkward affair, with Harry worrying that the Weasley's misguided idea of what had taken place in the bath, might have been shared with the other Weasleys, but after no one said anything, he knew the secret was safe. 'wait a minute,' Harry thought, feeling cheated, there was no need for secrets, nothing had happened! He didn't know what was worse, them thinking what they thought, or them knowing he had been talking to Ginny. Ginny made a face at him across the table in a teasing manner. 'She will pay, oh yes, she will pay,' Harry vowed with a grin back at her.

Professor Lupin knocked as Harry put his things away in Sirius' old room. Lupin knew Harry didn't want to complain, so he started talking naturally. "I miss that old dog," Lupin laughed hoarsely.

"Me too," Harry could admit, when someone brought it up first.

'I visited here with Sirius one Christmas when we were young," Remus explained. "But of course old Mrs Black made it quite clear I was unwelcome. She didn't even know of my...condition at the time." Harry wondered how many times Lupin had actually referred to himself as a werewolf, but whenever he did, he sounded like it was dirty and he would shudder. "No, it was the state of my clothes, my health, I guess..." he mused. "I wasn't good enough. She wanted Sirius transferred to Slytherin of course. Didn't understand the Sorting Hat choosing a Black for Gryffindor."

They talked for an hour before Harry thought of another gift he'd like to give Professor Lupin, in light of the conversation tonight. He kept telling himself over an over again that this would be wonderful Christmas, and maybe even a cleansing one, a one to put all of the previous ones to shame, for Harry had never had a Christmas at a real home before, just at the Dursleys or Hogwarts.

"How are classes going, Harry?" Lupin asked kindly. Harry told him quite truthfully that he'd much rather be allowed to attend the one he taught, Defence Against The Dark Arts, instead of just the less strenuous ones like Potions and such. This statement made Lupin feel very good, seeing as how Harry was well beyond N.E.W.T level in defence as it was already. Harry simply enjoyed Remus' company very much.

Later that evening, Ginny sat with Harry as he began the painful task of going through some of Sirius' old things. Remus had offered to help, but looked almost relieved when Harry told him he would call him only if he needed some advice. Poor Remus had been reminiscing enough already in the old house, having been here on weekends and full moons of late.

Harry got the courage to send some of Sirius' things to charity, knowing Sirius would approve, and especially knowing the rest of his family would not. There were things Harry knew some of Sirius' old friends would want, especially Remus, so he had boxed these and sat them outside of Remus' quarters down the hall with his name and a small note on it. Harry kept for himself only a few things. One old shirt that Sirius was wearing in a picture with James and a few photos.

All Harry had left of his own father, was his Invisibility Cloak, and Sirius' old shirt became like a second skin while he was at Grimmauld. When he put the old shirt on, it had just felt right somehow. It was green and fleecy and just a little big for him, but not in the Dudley hand- me-down sort of way. In the way that said, a part of him is still with me. When Harry got tired from the work and emotional tasks, Ginny kissed him lightly on the forehead and told him to nap.

When Harry laid down on Sirius' old, but incredibly comfortable bed, he expected to feel sad, or awkward, but somehow, he felt at peace and slept soundly.

Harry awoke to the sound of soft sobbing in the hallway. It was Winky. He opened the door to find the house- elf beside herself.

"Harry Potter Sir! Dobby is not meaning to do it sir!" Winky shrieked emphatically. Kreature attacked Dobby Sir!"

Harry felt his heart drop in his chest. If that miserable Kreature had hurt Dobby, he would pay dearly. Harry had already dealt with Mrs Black, but to his dismay, that was what had caused all the trouble to begin with. He followed Winky down the hall, followed by others who had heard the sounds.

Winky led them downstairs to the boiler room where Kreature made his meagre quarters. Dobby had complained, quite truthfully that Kreature's quarters stank and had proceeded to clean them while Kreature was off slinking around the house, no doubt spying on the Order. While cleaning, Dobby had accidentally dropped a picture of Mrs Black, breaking the frame of the prized item that the foul house- elf had secreted away.

Dobby leaned heavily on the boiler, which was extremely hot, horror struck, while Kreature, the Black family house- elf, lay dead, clutching the broken picture frame with Mrs Black and one of Narcissa Malfoy in his other hand. Harry instinctively grabbed Dobby away from the boiler, seeing it had nearly burned off Dobby's homemade shirt and had left his flesh on his back quite raw and blistered. Dobby was no doubt punishing himself for some perceived crime, as house- elfs were prone to do, having been ingrained to punish themselves by bad masters.

"Dobby was only cleaning Mr Harry Potter Sir! Dobby swears it!" the house- elf wailed miserably. Harry could see that Dobby would never have laid a hand on another living being unless in dire life threatening need, but even that was not the case, and he tried to calm the poor house- elf.

"I know, Dobby, it's alright, calm down," Harry tried to sooth. "Kreature was very old," Harry explained to the two other house- elves, though he couldn't help feeling relieved that Kreature was gone, no matter how guilty he felt about it. Kreature had helped bring about Sirius' death, and on more than one occasion, had tried to kill Harry as well.

"Kreature is telling us just the other day, that Harry Potter is killing his mistress!" Dobby moaned pitifully.

"What! I didn't kill anyone, it was just a wretched portrait!" Harry spat angrily.

"Dobby is knowing that sir, but Kreature tells us that he had no heart to go on after his mistress was banished.

Dobby then proceeded to relate all the mad ravings of the Black family house- elf. Kreature's heart gave out after mistress was gone, but kreature says Narcissa Malfoy is Kreature's new master, but then Dobby dropped his master's picture as Kreature is preparing to run away, and I says Kreature is a bad- house elf, and Kreature's heart gives out and he dies. Dobby is not meaning to drop the picture Harry Potter Sir, but Blacks can be as bad as Malfoys and I could not let him leave."

Dobby felt miserable and made to lean on the hot boiler again as punishment for having insulted his former masters. Hermione stopped Dobby from doing so, with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Hermione, please don't tell me you feel sorry for Kreature!" Ron warned.

"No, but we'd better get Dobby some medical attention for his back, and then at least honour Kreature's last wishes to have his head placed on the wall next to his relatives," she suggested timidly.

As Ginny helped Dobby upstairs to have his wounds seen by someone qualified, Harry told Hermione, "Well, I'm not doing it. Gross! And as it's my house now, no way!"

This foul house- elf had killed the one last chance Harry had had to gain a real family when it would have mattered, so Harry had no intention of giving it anything even in death. Harry turned to follow Ginny, while Hermione stared at the gruesome scene. He felt bad talking to Hermione so harshly, but she knew what he had gone through as a result of this house- elf. He turned back to the red eyed Hermione and told her, "Sirius hated him. He hated this house. Bury him if you want Hermione, but he gets no honour here!" It was too overwhelming with having spent the afternoon going through Sirius' things like a pirate, he thought.

Ron could very well see where Harry was coming from and he sympathised with him, but he felt Harry could have indulged Hermione, if only for a brief display on the wall for the house- elf. Winky and Dobby, though deeply disgusted with Kreature's foul behaviour, stopped long enough to look at Harry in a sad sort of wonder. Harry refused to stay around to be made to feel guilty. He was already so good at that himself, he didn't need any help. Kreature was a traitor, a murderer. If Sirius's death had anyone else to blame but Harry, it was Kreature.

Harry slammed his door, Sirius's door, and laid back down, tallying up all the nasty deeds this despicable house- elf had done, and it seemed was still doing from beyond the grave. Hermione was mad at him, Ron was mad on behalf of his girlfriend, but felt torn for Harry. Winky and Dobby had knocked Harry down a peg or two on their worship scale, and to top it all off, he didn't like himself much right now either. Some holiday!

Ginny slipped into Harry's room.

"Not now, Ginny, please?" he pleaded. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her. He just didn't know what to say.

"What? I think you did the right thing, Harry," she said diplomatically. She could stay. They just sat in the uncomfortable silence, but Ginny wasn't judging him. She waited for him to speak.

"Dumbledore reckons it was really the Black's treatment of Kreature that led to his eccentric ways. He said Sirius' indifference to it contributed to Kreature's delinquency. I couldn't believe he could say that," Harry said, shaking his head. Harry had staunchly defended Sirius, after all, Sirius had been no where near this house- elf for years upon years, and when he finally did come home, Kreature had plotted his murder from day one, haunting his every step in his own house. Harry hadn't even realized he'd told her all of this out loud.

"I understand Harry," Ginny told him truthfully. "But you can't let Kreature have more of a negative impact on you. Hermione is right in some ways, Kreature was insane."

Now, Harry wished that Ginny hadn't stayed.

"What so now you're siding with Dumbledore and Hermione!" Harry said through fast forming tears in his eyes. Of all the people who had always stood by him, he thought she would know how he felt. He had lost everything because of this vile creature, and now he was supposed to what? Grieve for it?

"So, you believe in not guilty by reason of insanity?" Harry asked incredulously. "The end result is the same, no matter what frame of mind it had when it did it, when it killed Sirius, when it made me get Sirius killed." Harry's voice broke. Why did he have to defend himself against this?

Why didn't they just understand. "He...he told me Sirius wasn't here..that he wasn't here..." Harry repeated as if begging her to understand.

"I know Harry, I know," Ginny tried to sooth, but Harry moved away from her embrace. It had been a colossal mistake to bring him here to Grimmauld Place. The house just had a feel about it that could dampen the most hardened hearts, let alone those that were already bleeding.

"Harry, Kreature was mad, and he did help get Sirius killed." It was even hard for Ginny to admit that Sirius was dead, though she hadn't known him as well as Ron and Hermione.

"But you can't let him destroy your relationship with your friends," she said, a little forcefully. I think that would almost be Kreacher's plan if I didn't know better. He did know Hermione had a soft spot for elves and he had read S.P.EW brochures. His final act could have been to put a rift between you and your friends, knowing now, maybe, what we just found out about, (she lowered her voice) the weapon that the dark lord knows not, your friends Harry," she said softly.

It was unlikely that Kreature had taken this much effort to destroy Harry, but this house- elf had listened in on every meeting the Order had ever conducted in this house. If Dumbledore had mentioned anything about Harry and Ginny's discovery, or about their sleep Occlumency, Kreature would have known.

Putting this out of their minds as highly unlikely, Ginny, the peace maker, convinced Harry to let Hermione display the grotesque head on the wall until after Christmas, at which time, Dobby and Winky would dispose of all the heads in an acceptable house- elf tradition so Harry would never have to look at them again.

Hermione and Harry apologized to one another, while Ron was very relieved, but conversation was still very stiff by the time Madam Pomfrey paid a visit to see to Dobby's wounds. Harry was aggravated when she insisted that since she was there, she should have a look at him too. She ended up telling Mrs Weasley to see that he got more rest, and that set the tone for the rest of his time at Grimmauld Place.

The following evening, when tensions had eased, Bill arrived and made his famous Firewhisky eggnog, which Ginny had been sure to ask Madam Pomfrey if Harry could have some with his many potions. After much careful deliberation, Madam Pomfrey decided, that she could change one or two of his potions which would have reacted poorly with alcohol, so that Harry could have a small amount.

Ginny, having partaken of Bill's Firewhisky before, wisely stuck to Butterbeer. Hagrid had been drinking since seven o'clock and was rather drunk and he was wearing a large father Christmas hat on his shaggy head. By the end of the evening, even Professor Dumbledore's beard seemed closer to the floor and Professor McGonagall's hat had fallen off her neatly pinned up hair hours ago.

Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny were all hugging dramatically, promising never to fight again, as Ginny, the only sober one, laughed and rolled her eyes.

When Ginny half poured Harry into bed that night, he looked at her solemnly and said, "I love you Ginevra Weasley!"

"I love you too superhero," she giggled, wondering if alcohol was why he had said this. She left him sleeping, or so he thought. He wasn't as drunk as she had thought, and he did love her.

Ginny went downstairs to help the rather tipsy Winky with the mess of the evening's festivities while Dobby protested having to rest on Madam Pomfrey's orders. They knew Harry had not disrespected them. He was only hurting over Kreature's role in Sirius' death.

The following morning saw everyone, save Ginny, not looking forward to the floo to the Burrow trip this morning. Mrs Weasley berated Bill for his overuse of the Firewhisky, reminding him that there were underage people here, not to mention Mr and Mrs Granger, who'd never had Firewhisky before.

Harry wore Sirius' old shirt like a security blanket now. Flooing somewhere had never been easy for him, not liking the feeling of spiralling out of control and getting lost once. He had to scourgify Mrs Weasley's clean kitchen floor when he vomited, falling face first out of the fireplace into the kitchen. No one else did much better, but they at least managed not to puke from their hangover.

Mrs Weasley was obviously made of sterner stuff than the rest when she ordered, "Right, you lot, get the decorations, Christmas is only two days away. Mrs Weasley made the pathetic lot some peppermint tea, placing a few herbs from her cupboard in it, and glaring at Bill before giving him any. They all felt quite well after the tea.

Harry had never decorated a Christmas tree in his life and he was terribly afraid of doing it wrong. He watched Fred and George, who he figured would just throw the tinsel half hazzardly all over the tree, place each strand carefully, fascinated by their methodical technique. To his surprise, it was Ginny who just threw the stuff on in great lumps anywhere within her reach.

Mrs Weasley handed Harry the star for the top of the tree. He stared at it for a moment, bewildered. Dudley had always placed the star atop the tree and many Christmas times found Harry locked outside with Aunt Marge's dog, Ripper, while the tree was decorated.

"I couldn't," Harry said quietly.

"Nonsense, dear. You're the only one who hasn't had a turn yet," she coaxed. With visions of his nose pressed upon the cold glass of the window, watching Uncle Vernon hoist Dudley up to place the star atop the tree in his head, he took the star in trembling hands. Harry levitated the star up to the top of the tree, something that would have caused fainting in Privet Drive and something that made him smile for the first time in over two days. Ginny hugged him tightly to her, knowing he was overwhelmed once again. It had been a week of firsts.

After dinner, an owl arrived from Neville and Luna, first in Neville's writing. 'Dear Harry, I got an owl as an early present from my Gran. I am having dinner at St Mungos with my parents. They can even sit at a table now, though dad still doesn't speak and mom makes little sense. Even so, it will be good. I told Luna not to send this, but she insisted, so I thought I'd remember to tell you to consider its source. I know Luna will be mad for my saying so, but it is from the Quibbler, her dad's paper.'

The writing trailed off as if someone had grabbed the paper and slid it away from Neville and Luna's neat scrip began almost as dreamy as her speech. 'Dear Harry, I thought you should know, even though my dear sweet Neville has taken great lengths to ask me not to disturb you with this until after Christmas...so here it is.' and a news clipping from the Quibbler fell out of the envelope.

The headline read, 'Krumple skinned Horkak hunter dies mysteriously in forest after spotting several dragons. The article explained that no cause of death could be found, but speculated that the Death Eaters may have been involved and that in addition to the death, there had also been disappearances in the same area.

Harry tried to laugh it off, but found worry creep involuntarily into him. There was only one dragon family in the whole of this country free, and if any of this was true, she had been spotted by outsiders at last.

"Krumple Skinned Horkaks, honestly!" snorted Hermione, trying to win Harry's approval back even more and feeling guilty for being insensitive. Hagrid even had misgivings about this article.

Ginny was Harry's quiet voice of reason. "Well Harry, if there was anything going on with Sashu, Charlie's friends would have reported by now, and he'd tell us," she told him confidently, trying to save him more stress that he didn't need.

As the previous night had been rather boisterous, everyone went to bed early. Harry stared longingly at Ginny's door, wishing that she could sleep with him, just sleep, for real, in each other's arms as he paused at her door out in the hall.

"Oy! Romeo! You're in here!" Ron grinned at Harry, leading him to his own room. Harry was desperate for some sleep, so he had to push out all thoughts of the article from the Quibbler.

At about three in the morning, Harry awoke thirsty and upon going down the creaky stairs, surprised Hermione and Ron who were sitting on the couch kissing. He got a drink, apologized in an embarrassed sort of whisper and went back upstairs, lingering just outside Ginny's room.

"Gin, you awake?" he whispered, and when she did not reply, he asked a little louder.

From further down the hall, came a voice, Fred or George's he couldn't tell which.

"Harry, unless you want to visit us in here doing some experiments, I suggest you go back to bed. Ginny's like Ron, sleep through an earthquake she would. Of course Ginny could sleep through anything with life a the Burrow. She'd been used to things that went bump in the night as well as thud and crack and all manner of explosions coming from the twins room all through the years.

"And Harry, stay out of her room," one of them advised, he couldn't tell who still. "We've taken a page from Hogwart's girls dorms and booby trapped her door."

"Nothing personal of course," came the other voice. Harry had to hand it to Ginny's older and who would have guessed, wiser, brothers. He had been scheming.

Harry knew he wouldn't sleep now, so he took the twins up on their invite to view their experiments. It wasn't long before Harry knew that these products were not for a joke shop, not even their joke shop.

"What is all this?" Harry asked, taking it all in.

"Well, we didn't join the Order this year because of mom, but we have been trying to come up with intelligence products to help the Order," Fred informed him. Harry felt somewhat badly that the two pranksters had put aside inventing new things for their shop for the time being to concentrate on helping the Order, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves at least.

"Here, better put these on," Fred suggested, handing Harry an identical set of goggles to the ones they were wearing. "Okay, George, toss great Grandfather's coin to see who gets to try it first. I call heads."

"Tails it is," George said, somewhat apprehensively. Harry watched in curious fascination as Fred stood, removing his goggles and squinting as if in anticipation of things to come. George muttered something that sounded horribly like Avada Kedavra, but no, it couldn't be!

It was when the flash of green light emanated from the tip of George's wand, hitting Fred in his chest, sending him careening to the floor, that Harry lost it completely. Harry couldn't fight. He fell to the floor at first, wand raised at George, who was looking at him with a mixture of dread and wonder. George tried to help Harry up off the floor, but by now, Harry was yelling to wake the dead.

The room was bathed in bright light from the hall as Ron, Hermione and Ginny made it to the scene first. Everyone had their own wands out, but trained on no one specifically at the moment, just trying to make sense of the scene that met their eyes.

'He...he...he...killed.." Harry choked. By now Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Mad Eye Moody and Professor Lupin were also standing in Fred and George's doorway.

"Boys, what is going on in here! It's four o'clock in the morning," Mr Weasley said, not knowing that approaching Harry at the moment was dangerous. Mr Weasley got a blast of a Stunning Spell from Harry when he had reached for him.

"Don't touch me!" Harry whispered frantically. His mind flashed back to that green light, that killing light. His parents, Cedric, it all played out in his mind fresh as a minute ago. Ginny knew something was seriously wrong when even she couldn't get near Harry. He did not stun her, he warned her in no uncertain terms was she to get closer. For all the poor boy knew at the moment, George could have been under the Imperious Curse to kill his own brother. No one else knew yet that he was dead and not just lying there unconscious. Harry was in shock. He wanted to get out of there. George blocked his way from the window, which was on the third floor anyway, and the rest of them blocked the doorway.


	51. Making Memories

A soft moan came from the floor. "What on Earth's going on?" Fred asked, sitting up slowly, rubbing his chest.

THUD! That was it. Harry's wand clattered to the floor and he passed out cold. Mrs Weasley automatically rounded on the twins. She knew that Harry was not ready to see demonstrations of new techniques or products the twins had been working on for the Order, least of all this particular one.

"What have you done! You know you're not supposed to experiment on a sick or injured person!"

Before the twins could defend themselves to explain that even they knew better than to experiment on a person who was just up walking around after a life threatening injury like Harry's, Mrs Weasley continued.

"You've likely ruined Christmas. You know Poppy will have him back in the hospital before you can say... that's brilliant!" Mrs Weasley had finally figured out what must have happened when she saw George nervously handling his wand, and a bit of green light came sparking out from the tip. Momentarily forgetting to rant on about Harry she said, "so, you've finished it then? And it works?"

"Yeah, so it would seem, though we forgot who we were demonstrating for, " Fred said, looking like he could have cursed himself. "Honestly, mom, we didn't know he'd think it was real."

Mrs Weasley's tone changed. "You couldn't have known it would effect him like that. He's fragile right now. I can only imagine what the poor thing thought when you did that to Fred. Come to think of it, I'm glad I wasn't here for it either," she said, getting a little misty. "Good job boys, but no more around Harry," She kissed them both, telling Fred to come downstairs to have his chest looked after as Arthur and George picked Harry up and carried him to he and Ron's room.

Harry saw faces in his dreams that night. All of them his friends, killing each other under the Imperious Curse and he helpless to stop them. He awoke screaming, 'noooooo!' as he dreamed Ginny raised her wand against him and the last thing he saw before he came to, was a flash of green light.

"Gah!" Harry yelled, pulling away from whoever was touching him. He felt a cold cloth on his forehead, which he threw on the floor, searching for his wand.

"Harry, it's me," came a soft voice in the semi darkness. It as Ginny. Harry was still half dreaming, but his words stung her. Ginny turned to Remus, tears in her eyes, but looking determined to help Harry understand that nothing had really happened to Fred. She would deal with her brothers later. Fred and George also now stood in the doorway of the room, having heard Harry cry out.

"Get away from me!" Harry whispered urgently, voice very hoarse from having cried out in his sleep so much. There were a lot of things the twins could take, but whenever Harry would cry out like he was being murdered, they placed their hands over their ears, feeling very responsible for having caused this. They hadn't thought about what Harry would think, they'd just been excited to show him their new inventions, commissioned by the Order. George wondered if Harry really thought he had killed his own twin brother, but by his reaction, he really didn't have to wonder at all.

"Harry, it's me, Remus," professor Lupin said forcefully, holding Harry's shoulders to stop his struggling, as Harry continued frantically looking for his wand. Lupin told Ginny to go out for awhile as he did something she felt was very foolish in the state Harry was in. Lupin gave Harry his wand.

Ginny stayed out in the hall, as the others gathered to be near should Lupin need them.

"Harry, it's not what you saw. Fred is fine." As if in answer to this, Fred came in, somewhat foolishly, somewhat bravely, thought Lupin. Harry didn't know what to think. He never could tell them apart. George followed in slowly.

"See?" Fred said gently. "Here, in the flesh. We're sorry Harry. We forgot...it never dawned on us that you would think..." he finished full of remorse.

"I don't understand," Harry half choked, half sobbed, finding it hard to get enough air. He swayed as he stood, but refused Lupin's hand to help him back to the bed. He was also aware that many sets of eyes were now watching from the bedroom door. Molly Weasley's eyes were full of tears now as Lupin tried to reason with the confused boy. To make Lupin prove who he was, Harry asked him questions only Remus could know, having been in the Shrieking Shack with he and his friends in his third year.

Satisfied at Remus's answer, Harry turned to Molly. He didn't want to do this, but he asked her what she had seen, and in what order, from the Boggart in Grimauld Place. He was taking no chances that one or all of them were under the Imperius Curse.

The room spun as Harry's wand arm fell to his side from where it had been held shakily trained on everyone, and this time Remus caught him before he hit the floor. George placed his legs on the bed, while Lupin positioned him on his pillows. Harry felt sick. He had been expecting an attack and lately, the mind attacks from Voldemort had been as bad as the physical. No one there could blame him for his confusion, but he suddenly felt very ashamed.

"I...I...I'm sorry," he murmered, looking down at his feet and then closing his eyes as a few tears managed to squeeze out of the tight squint. He put his arm over his eyes, not even knowing where to look. The dreams caused by the twin's demonstration had been so real. Ginny's heart was breaking, but she waited for him to collect himself.

"Ginny?" Harry whispered.

"I'm right here," she half sobbed. Harry was so embarrassed by what he done, but he still didn't understand what had taken place. Why had George pretended to kill Fred. Harry knew that neither of them had seen the Killing Curse performed for real, but he had and it was terrible to behold.

"Harry, we're the same blokes who turned you upside down in the hospital for being a git," Fred identified himself and George for Harry's sake. "I think you need to see this to get over this shock."

Mrs Weasley started to protest that they needed to leave Harry in bed to rest, but she was out voted, even by Harry, who stood shakily with Ron and Lupin helping him on either side back to the twin's room. He shivered involuntarily looking at the place where Fred had fallen.

"It came from a game we invented for our shop called 'Mumble,' George explained. It uses harmless spells and changes them when you mumble them. Anyway, that's not important. Light wizards don't do the Killing Curse, but Voldemort and his followers won't know we don't when we use this, and it will deter them somewhat when they think we're cutting them down all over the place. We've been relatively ineffective up 'til now, especially when outnumbered when they know we don't use the Unforgiveables...but now..." George handed his wand to Harry, wanting him to perform the fake Killing Curse himself.

"You know how muggles say, "Abra Kedabra, right?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, remembering getting in trouble for saying it once when he was a child.

"Well, in a large battle, no one's gonna hear what it is you've said exactly and with this," he said, showing Harry how to swish the wand to make a jet of green light come from the tip, "none of the target's allies will know that you haven't killed him..."

Harry caught on quickly. "So, you use a strong enough spell to keep them down for the entire battle, no one will bother enervating a dead guy, so it will cut their numbers down... and if we win...it'll make it easier to clean up the filth with them still being out cold. You two are evil geniuses," Harry complimented.

"Look Harry, we're really sorry. If we had known...we just didn't think. We've never actually seen it, the killing curse I mean," Fred shivered.

"And we don't want to if we can help it, " George piped in. "Alright now Harry?"

"Yeah. Look I'm sorry I lost it on you there," Harry stammered, feeling very foolish.

"Don't apologise. It was our fault, but look, if it'll make you think better of us, we'll take the charms off Ginny's room as long as you promise not to do anything her big brothers wouldn't approve of," George smiled.

"Which is unfortunately for you, pretty much anything beyond a kiss on the cheek," Fred reminded, smiling but still serious. Harry could barely walk, so anything else would have been out of the question anyway. Ginny was very proud of her brothers for the way they had handled their mistake with Harry, but she felt a little distanced from Harry this morning.

Harry insisted he wanted to join the family for breakfast and not eat in his room, so Remus helped him down the stairs and he sat in a large overstuffed chair. Ginny sat tentatively on the couch across from him. Harry was so upset with himself for dreaming that she could ever harm him, he didn't know what to say. As soon as he made the first move to come to her on the couch, she was next to him in the chair before he could even stand up.

'I'm so sorry, Ginny!" he said, gripping her tightly in his arms like he would never let go. He didn't know how to handle it if she was mad at him. Ginny wasn't that petty. People couldn't help their dreams, especially Harry, who had been manipulated so many times, he was lucky to have his head on straight most of the time as it was. "I'm so sorry," he kept saying over again, until Ginny put her finger on his lips to quieten him.

'It's not your fault Harry," she said firmly and thinking logically she added, "besides, I heard Mad Eye compliment the fact that you included me in your mind as suspect when you woke up. You never know what Voldemort could do, even with me," she was ashamed to admit, remembering back to her first year when she had been possessed by him. He said it showed constant vigilance, and I have to say, I can't disagree with him." Once again, she looked ashamed. Harry did feel absolved by her confession that everyone had agreed with Mad Eye that it had been a good sign that he'd made everyone prove themselves to him, including her.

It was then that the two of them decided to make a sign to prove who they were should anything like this, or the real thing ever happen again. Fondly remembering the awkward afternoon in Hagrid's hut trying to dry Harry's clothes, they had remembered the goosebumps Harry had had all over his...so she did see it! Their secret password would be...goosebumps! Ginny felt Harry relax in his arms finally as she kissed him and held him tight. This was enough to calm his more than frayed nerves, but when Madam Pomfrey arrived in the fireplace, Harry knew who had called her in an instant because Mrs Weasley suddenly retreated guiltily further into the kitchen. In a way, he couldn't blame Mrs Weasley. She was only concerned for him.

Madam Pomfrey went over every inch of Harry as everyone started on breakfast to give him some privacy. Ginny however stayed, for which he was grateful. Finding nothing seriously wrong with him, except some bruising where he had fallen, she started him on an iron supplement to bring his blood up a bit, because the bruising was a little more severe for the described fall. She ordered him to nap later and be sure to eat with the iron supplement as she sent him off to breakfast hand in hand with his girlfriend.

Harry got a big surprise to find Dumbledore there at the breakfast table, seated next to the twins in deep conversation. Harry felt himself going red when the Headmaster glanced at him with sympathy.

Fred was just about to bite into one his mother's famous cinnamon logs when he was called to see the Matron as well. He rolled his eyes at his mother, but complied quickly as Mr Weasley gave her backup with a look that said, 'do as your mother says.'

"You two do not listen to your bodies," Madam Pomfrey scolded Fred as George strode in to be nosy and see his handy work from his 'Abra Kadabra.' "You've a cracked rib! Surely you must have felt that!"

"Not really. Masterful I must say, George," Fred complimented George, annoying the Healer no end.

"Not at all, not at all," George said, trying to make light. He did feel bad about having cracked his brother's ribs, but it was for a very noble cause and they were very dedicated. Fred was healed and given warning about 'doing foolish things,' and the like and given a potion for before bedtime before the Matron accepted an invitation to stay for breakfast.

Christmas Eve had started out horribly to say the least, but by noon, everyone had napped and felt much better. The day was made brighter by the thick fat snowflakes that were falling heavily out the window of the burrow and the crackling fire in the fireplace. Harry had never had a real Christmas in a home before. The anticipation in the air was palpable. Harry was excited and nervous at the same time.

The Grangers arrived at around one o'clock and Mrs Granger and Mrs Weasley got busy baking large quantities of cookies and cakes, pies and breads. Harry learned that in order to not have everyone under one roof at once, for reasons no one wanted to talk about, but everyone knew, Christmas dinner tomorrow would be staggered between lunch and dinner.

"Seriously, Harry, you are okay, right?" Fred asked, sounding very badly.

"Yeah, I really am. You guys are doing a great job on all that stuff," Harry told him truthfully. Harry saw the worry dissolve from both the twin's faces when he assured them that he was okay now. He didn't have to tell anyone what he had thought, they already knew, and the odd clap on his shoulder throughout the day of reassurance, which usually would have annoyed him, actually helped.

After a few games of Exploding Snap, which the twins joked could easily be turned into

'Exploding Snape," Harry decided he needed to send an owl to Dobby and Winky. Madam Pomflry had assured him that Dobby was completely healed from his self inflicted burns, but Harry felt bad at the way he had left things with his friend the house- elf. He apologised for the way he had treated him and asked Mrs Weasley if he could invite Dobby and Winky for Christmas dinner at the Burrow. Hedwig held out her leg to take the letter and was lost in the snow in minutes, her white feathers matching the flakes until they disappeared from view.

It was a matter of hours when Hedwig came back with a very wet letter, which had by now, in flight, frozen over. Hermione used a Drying Charm on it for Harry as he opened it up.

"Dear Harry Potter Sir,

Winky and Dobby are humbled by your request to join you for dinner, but there is to be a party among us house- elves at Hogwarts tomorrow. You is a fine young master, and Winky and Dobby have changed the nasty house complete, so you is not recognizing it the next time you sees it, sir!

Inside the envelope was many pictures, all of Grimmauld Place, but almost as Dobby had written, unrecognizable. The chandeliers were polished brass, gleaming with crystal, the marble steps had rich red carpeting coming down the centre and the bedrooms had curtained captain's beds in rich velvet, different in each. The kitchen gleamed like the ones in Hogwarts and there wasn't a cobweb or dust anywhere to be seen. Harry remembered something Dobby had told him once, 'we is magical creatures too, Harry Potter.' The last picture was one of Dobby and Winky standing beside the Lily wallpaper in the front foyer, saying, "Happy Christmas, Harry Potter!" this had been his Christmas present.

The letter must have been magiced because there was a letter for Hermione's eyes only, which had landed in her hands as well. She took it, tears coming to her eyes as she read it.

"Well go on," Harry prodded, knowing that he had been hard on Hermione at Grimmauld Place. He wanted to show her that he was sorry and hoped there were no longer any hard feelings. Everyone at one time or another had been insensitive to Harry and he to them. Such was the way with friends who were so close and so close to danger.

"It's done," Hermione said, as Ron put her arms around his girlfriend. "Winky and Dobby took the house- elf heads down and buried them according to their manner," she whispered, not looking at Harry.

"I'm glad" Harry said quietly. He meant it, and she believed him. Harry went over and hugged Hermione. He wouldn't lie to her. He didn't want anything to do with that foul house- elf of the Black's, but if it was as Dumbledore had said, and Kreature had been ruined by the Black family, than Harry told Hermione in a heart felt way, that he hoped Kreature would rest in peace. It was over.

Harry wasn't ready to see any more of the twins new inventions just yet, so when Mrs Weasley called them all down for hot chocolate and cookies, they gratefully accepted.

Professor Lupin was a little drunk on the second batch of Bill's Firewhisky eggnog, and he began to sing, 'God bless ye merry hippogriffs," like Harry had heard Sirius sing. He was surprised that this made him smile, and soon, he was quietly joining in on the chorus with everyone else. They got to singing more songs, and Harry sang almost inaudibly, but happily. He wasn't sure if he could sing or not, not having done so at all at the Dursleys, even at Christmas.

Fred and George were very loud as usual, but Ginny smiled as she strained to hear Harry's very small voice. Actually, he was a very good singer, but he almost stopped when he noticed her smiling at him. His emerald eyes danced with shyness like she had never seen before, but he kept singing as she moved close enough to hold his hand. He had never in his life spent an evening like this. 'So this is Christmas Eve?' he asked himself.

Harry laughed when everyone had put on their pyjamas and come back downstairs. All the Weasleys were wearing footie pyjamas, as was Hermione, with Red, Green and Gold fleece. Mrs Weasley told Harry there was a pair for him in his room, but she did not pressure him to put them on. Actually, he ended up saying. 'Well, when in Rome,' and happily put on the pyjamas and posed for a picture with the family, feeling for the first time, none of the wonder if he should be in the photo or not. It hadn't even been a question.

The only two not dressed for the occasion were Kingsley Shaklebolt and Mad Eye Moody who were on duty. Lupin was wearing a Father Christmas hat, and Professor Dumbledore wore long white robes of fleece that shimmered slightly when he moved. Professor McGonagall was wearing her garish thorn rimmed hat, which Harry couldn't wait to hide on her once she got her new one in the morning.

Christmas morning was off to an earsplitting start, but in a good way. Everyone had run to find Ron kneeling at the side of Hermione's bed as she had squealed in delight, very un- Hermione like. She held up her left hand to her mother who had also come running, to show an diamond engagement ring, beaming in front ofa much relieved looking Ron. Harry hadn't known Ron was going to propose this soon. No one else had opened anything else yet.

Usually, it was tradition to find one's presents at the foot of one's bed, but Mrs Weasley had thought it might be nice to follow the Muggle tradition of opening the presents around the Christmas tree while sipping tea, so they could share in each other's company, and make the Grangers feel at home.

Unbeknownst to his parents, Ron had taken Mr Granger aside last night to inform him of his plans to ask Hermione to marry him. Dumbledore had been present, making Ron more and less nervous at the same time. He wasn't asking permission. He just felt it would be the polite thing to do. Ron had thought about it long and hard, knowing they wouldn't get married until they were finished Hogwarts, but with the uncertainty of the times, he wanted Hermione to know his intentions. After a two hour discussion, Mr Granger gave the permission that Ron had not needed, but was glad and proud to get.

Harry hugged Hermione and slapped Ron on the back. Ron and Harry had a good laugh at the way Hermione was acting like a typical girl, showing off her ring to everyone. They marvelled at how years ago, she likely would never have seen this coming. She had definitely matured faster than they had.

Mrs Weasley and Mrs Granger went off to the kitchen to start the tea, already talking about weddings while Ron just rolled his eyes. "Women," he moaned.

Harry just smiled as Ginny and Hermione joined the women in the kitchen. Harry was surprised to see Lupin in the kitchen, flipping pancakes, and rather skilfully at that. Harry knew that Remus hadn't had a real Christmas for years out of count either, and it was nice to hear him humming and wearing a very busy Christmas apron while he cooked.

Tonks had arrived that morning and she, of course, received the first batch of golden pancakes. She embraced Lupin warmly. Harry had made it to see Christmas in a real home, another milestone he thought he'd never live to see.

Harry hadn't bargained on Mrs Weasley opening her present in particular in front of everyone. It was bad enough he'd thought of it in the first place, he felt.

Soon, there was a melee of flying paper. They may have tried to do this in Muggle tradition, but these were the Weasleys after all. After all these years, Harry couldn't believe he got presents still, something he had never had at the Dursleys, and this was the best of all.

Dumbledore put on the socks Harry had gotten him right away, smiling at Harry in a knowing way. The amulette Sirius had gotten for Harry's birthday, glowed warmly against his chest right through his body. He felt proud to have it, though he still wasn't sure of it's significance. It had never felt warm against his skin unless he had been touching Ginny or someone he cared for, never when he had not been in direct contact with someone before today. He knew he was being sentimental and stupid when he whispered, 'thanks Sirius,' under his breath.

Harry was glad to see that Lupin hadn't been forgotten by anyone as he opened many presents as well. It seemed everyone had presents, including those on active duty today.

"Oh, Harry!" moaned the twins, upon finding tickets to the play about women's voting rights for they and their girlfriends. "We told Angelina and Katie Bell they were sold out!" they cried in unison, as Harry laughed at them, and doubly so when Ron opened his. Hermione was delighted and thanked him with big hugs for the tickets and the beautiful book he had gotten her.

"Very funny, mate!" Ron said, when Pigwidgeon flew in with Ron's gag gift of the newspaper headlining the Chudley Cannons as world cup champions. They all of course, loved the real gifts he had gotten them. He had been enjoying immensely, watching them open their gifts, leaving his unwrapped without even thinking about it. He tensed up as Mrs Weasley reached for the small package addressed to her personally from Harry. He wanted to look away, but found he couldn't.

Molly tore the paper off carefully, so much so that he wanted to scream, 'open it, get it over with!' but he remained quiet, barely breathing. Even Ginny didn't know about this gift, so she watched in curiosity.

At first, Mrs Weasley looked puzzled, but then she burst into tears. This was not what Harry had expected! Was it wrong? Was it weird? 'What!' he thought desperately wanting to fall in between the couch cushions and disappear.

When Mrs Weasley engulfed him in hug that he thought he would suffocate from, he knew he had done the right thing. "Oh Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley sobbed, taking out the small 'candy dish' with Harry's tiny child hand print embedded in the clay and placing it on the mantle with the treasures made by her own children's loving hands throughout the years.

Mrs Weasley stared intently at the framed picture of a stallion that had been in the same package with the dish, made by the same child for someone else, but now in it's rightful place, and Harry thought his heart would break from happiness as she hung it on the wall in between Ron and Ginny's drawings from when they had been about the same age as he when he drawn the stallion. This was a mother.

Harry was surprised to see all the women in the room crying now. He was grateful when Ron whispered quietly, 'nutters, give them a wedding and some sentimental gifts and they go off the deep end," but then he too kind of lost it.

"Thanks mate, this means a lot to her. More then you could know," Ron told Harry seriously.

Harry just looked at the floor, still a little nervous about the gift when there was a loud noise coming from the kitchen. The other part, what he thought was the more important gift for the Weasleys had arrived. Mrs Weasley loved the beautiful oak table with so many chairs it took up nearly the whole dining area, but Harry was secretly pleased that she had fussed so much more over her 'small' presents from him. For a person who had received nothing for Christmas for much of his life, Harry still wasn't as excited to open his own as he was to see everyone opening theirs.

Professor Lupin looked at his present from Harry with a politely puzzled expression on his face. There were two parcels to open and one envelope. First, came a coat hanger. He looked at Harry with a questioning gaze upon opening the second parcel which contained a new set of robes and a hat. The envelope came with a note saying, 'home is where you hang your hat,' and there were the keys to number twelve Grimmauld place. Remus's eyes were overbright as he held the keys in trembling fingers. He had never been able to buy a home of his own, not having had a proper job long enough because of his condition.

"Harry, I'm beyond speechless, but I couldn't." stuttered Remus.

"Yes you can, Remus. I don't need that house and now that it's fixed up and you're dating, I know Sirius would approve. In his will, he told me to give to his friends what I thought they'd like, and I know you'd said before you'd like someplace permanent to call home for once, instead of wondering from job to job, apartment to apartment. It would be convenient for both you and Tonks, and you could still let the Order use part of it. You wouldn't even have to travel to meetings."

"You've really thought this out..." Lupin said, impressed and touched.

"I have. Sirius said you wouldn't take it from him, so I want you to take it for me," Harry said earnestly.

"I don't know what to say, Harry. No one's ever..."

"Just say you'll take it," Harry told him.

"Thank you," Remus breathed, continuing to stare at the keys to his first ever home. Hermione of course, cried, and the twins mocked her crying, "oh, we've got to go see a girly play boo hoo!"

Harry never could understand why all these years the Dursleys had bothered to send him the very strange insulting gifts he'd received from them, and this year was no different, except for one thing. This was the year he would finally find out why they had sent him things such a toothpick, a single tissue, a knobbly pair of horrible used socks and the like for Christmas. It was all part of the blood protection from Harry's mother's only living relative Aunt Petunia. It was thought to strengthen the life preserving charm Petunia had unwillingly had to give Harry all these years, if she were to send him a gift at the holidays, and not wanting to spend a dime on the 'little freak' she would reluctantly pick something insulting or horrible to send him, fulfilling her obligation, but being careful not to be nice to him. At least now he understood as he opened the broken potato peeler from the badly wrapped package from the Dursleys. He recognized it as the one he'd been made to peel potatoes with until his fingers almost bled when he'd been only eight years old.

Not wanting to dampen the happy atmosphere with the story behind the ultimate low gift, he just smiled weakly and put it aside. No one saw Fred stick it in his back pocket as Harry turned to his real presents. The potato peeler was pushed to the back of his mind to rot for later as he opened his usual Weasley jumper, which this year, matched Ginny's.

"Oh, look," teased George. "Now they'll be twins like us. Mrs Weasley knew the twins were men now, but she couldn't resist making them the same jumper, saying they looked cute dressed the same at least once a year, and they good natured as usual, wore the sweaters at least on Christmas at the same time just for her.

Hermione had gotten Harry a book. But as Harry studied the cover, he found it very interesting and appropriate. It was 'How To Become An Animagi, The Proper Way.' This would come in handy. Perhaps they could master this, instead of it mastering them only when they were in desperate need.

Harry was overwhelmed, finding that no one had left him off their list. The thoughts that had plagued him all year, that everything he did, might be his last, reared their ugly head, as he wondered if everyone had paid so much attention to Christmas this year, because maybe by the next one, Voldemort may have succeeded in killing him, but the truth was, it was Christmas at the Burrow and this was the way it had always been. Harry pushed the worry out of his mind with great effort and enjoyed the best Christmas meal he'd ever had.

"Did you like the chocolate cream pie, Harry?" Ginny asked, grinning.

"Yeah," Harry said tentatively, hoping the twins hadn't done something funny to it, since he'd had two pieces of it.

"Oh, I'm so glad! I made it from scratch all by myself!" Ginny beamed at him. Harry was flattered, and a little scared, but after a half hour with no ill side effects like before, he suggested that if it wouldn't be too much trouble, she could make it again before the end of holidays. Now she was flattered.

The day was so perfect that Harry kept expecting bad news. He had only a small idea of how many people had sacrificed time with their own families so he could have a Christmas like he deserved, and that was how the Weasleys and especially Dumbledore wanted it. If Harry found out how much trouble people had gone through to make this possible, he would have insisted on just staying at the school like he'd always done. He had spent months fighting for his very life, and people felt he deserved to have a taste of something they had taken for granted for most of their lives.

The best present of all, was having time alone with Ginny that evening, sipping hot chocolate in the cozy living room while everyone else was having sweets in the kitchen. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this had been arranged. They had an hour together before Ron and Hermione came in to ask them if Harry would be Ron's best man, and if Ginny would be Hermione's maid of honour. The wedding was to be held in Muggle fashion in Hermione's home town, right after the finish of the seventh year of school.

There was something that felt good to Harry to be asked to be a part of something that was planned for so far into the future. Even if he couldn't see the future for himself, Ginny, Ron and Hermione would always be there to show it to him.

The rest of the evening was spent on talking about Quidditch, while Hermione, Ginny and the other females all sat discussing bridal gowns, and preparations and the like. Harry had to stifle a laugh when Hermione, sensible as always, told them that of course, school came first, but he couldn't help but smile as Ron looked at her, wedding planner in hand, penciling in dates and such. It was the most oddly normal thing Harry had ever seen. Ron remembered Hermione telling him at Harry's 'funeral,' that people need to know things will go on. He guessed this was their way of making sure they continued to believe he would succeed in defeating the Dark Lord, especially when he lost his belief in himself.

Harry didn't think he'd see the day when he didn't want to return to the school. The Burrow had been just what he needed, a home. Nonetheless, the day came for their return, with two weeks still remaining of holidays. Dumbledore had kindly suggested that Professor Lupin and Tonks take a few days to enjoy Lupin's new home, which he gratefully accepted.

"Harry, I feel odd saying this to you, but you know you will always be welcome at Grimmauld, don't you?" Remus asked him, as they were about to board the Hogwarts express.

'Yeah," Harry replied, feeling a little awkward.

"What I mean is, depending on your plans for summer and such, I would be honoured if you stayed with me," Lupin offered, somewhat awkwardly.

"I would like that," Harry said truthfully, but not at all knowing what Dumbledore would have in place for safe accommodations for next year for him. He sincerely hoped he'd never have to go back to the Dursleys again.

"I'll talk to the headmaster about it then," Lupin promised with a relieved smile. He was not Harry's Godfather, and he would never try to take Sirius' place, but Lily and James had always known that Remus could be trusted to help look after their son, and Remus felt pride within himself as he waved to the raven haired boy who looked so much like his fallen friend. Tonks locked her fingers into Remus' and suggested they go check out his new home. Remus was glad that he would not be alone the first time he came to look at number twelve Grimmauld place as his own.


	52. Coming To Life

New Year's Eve arrived. Another milestone Harry had marked, being alive to see the dawn of a new year, one that he never thought he'd live to see. He was very tense as the large clock tower counted down the final moments of the one of the hardest years he had ever endured, right down to the last seconds, and he almost cringed with anticipation of what horrors the new year would bring.

Gong! The new year had begun as Harry held his breath until the last gong had died away to an echo in the deep walls of the castle. He hadn't even drawn a breath, when Ginny's lips were on his, saying, "Happy New Year Harry!" When she was finished her kiss, he drew a very relieved first breath of the new year, as the twins, who were banging on pots and pans, a Weasley tradition since they had been five, stopped long enough to plant kisses on the top of his head as well until he protested. Ron and Hermione had yet to break apart from their new years kiss.

"Harry what is it?" Ginny asked, smiling at him, but knowing somewhat what was on his mind. Would this be the year that it happened, the year he would end it, or come to his own end?

"Oh, sorry, nothing really, Happy New Year, Ginny," Harry said warmly, and he meant it with his whole heart, but holidays were hard for him.

"It's okay, Harry," Ginny soothed. "A lot of people are reflective at this time of year, and you have more reasons to be than they do," she told him with an understanding that he could not fathom.

"We'll do what we have to do when they time comes, and then...I want one of those!" Ginny told him firmly, though smiling and pointing at Hermione's engagement ring. Harry would have given her one of those right now if his very life didn't hang by a thread until the Dark Lord was defeated.

"You know I will Ginny," Harry began apologetically, feeling like a heel, which is not what she had meant to do at all. He knew it was right, she knew it was right, but there was something to clear away first.

"Sh..." Ginny put her finger on his lips to quiet him from having to voice his fears. "Listen, I want you and you want me, right?"

"Yes, more than anything," Harry told her solemnly.

"That's all I need...for now," she assured him, and she made him believe her. Harry knew he wasn't alone in his fight now, and looking at his friends, was comforting and discomforting all at once.

Ginny wasn't a complicated girl. When she said she wanted an engagement later, she meant it, but she could wait. She had faith that he would overcome Voldemort and the celebration of their love would be all the sweeter. For his part, Harry decided that he might just get her an engagement ring, despite all of his previous misgivings, but he had time to think for now.

By mid March, after everything had been unnervingingly quiet, Professor Trelawny had another eery vision, which in itself wouldn't have been quite so serious if it had not been echoed by the more reliable Firenze, the Centaur who taught divination as well. Firenze had seconded the vision in a more coherent manner.

It was said that if March comes in like a lamb, it will go out like a lion, and that in essence was what Trelawny had told Dumbledore, while Firenze had warned of the Ides of March. This and the more tangible proof that Voldemort had stepped up his activity had placed yet another strain on the recovering Harry Potter, who was due to move back into the Gryffindor common rooms from the hospital wing this very week.

By now, Dumbledore had had the newly found previous quarters of Cloverhouse searched thoroughly for clues as to what had happened to disband this noble looking house. Harry had felt a little disappointed when Dumbledore said a book of names of the house had been found in a still magically sealed vault within the great chimney of Cloverhouse tower. No one could figure out the magic that had to have been wielded to hide the tower from day to day sight. From the outside of the great castle which was Hogwarts, Cloverhouse tower could not be seen. The book had been given to one of the young members of the Order of Phoenix. Harry felt that it should probably have gone to someone who had been newly sorted into the ancient house, like Tyler.

The day so long in coming, the one that would finally see Harry rejoin his fellow sixth years in the Gryffindor Dorms permanently, finally arrived, but there was of course, a catch. Madam Pomfrey packed up the four potions he was still having to take, and Dumbledore had assigned Gryffindor tower a body guard, who turned out to be the very same young man whom Dumbledore had given the Cloverhouse book to. The young man had volunteered to take the night shifts, since he was so intent on reading the new book.

Harry was only slightly annoyed that Ron, Hermione and Ginny wouldn't let him carry any of his belongings back to Gryffindor Tower himself. He was much stronger, thought not still a hundred percent. He was now attending three of the four usual courses, with one set aside for physical therapy and training. He took one last look around the hospital wing, stopping to hug Madam Pomfrey and to tell her he hoped never to grace her door again. She smiled at him, hoping the same, but knowing all too well who this boy was and what he faced.

The Fat Lady actually got misty eyed welcoming Harry back. It was evening and the young man who had possession of the Cloverhouse book had just come on duty. Harry couldn't help but stare at him, but he tried to tell himself he was just being ridiculous when he thought that the young man looked like a younger version of Sirius Black. It was hard to shake the man's hand without staring at him intently and Harry felt like a fool for doing so as the man introduced himself.

'I'm Elijah Johnson," the man said, extending his hand. His long black hair and smiling blue eyes were so similar to the picture of Harry's parents wedding picture of Sirius when he was younger before he'd been haunted from his years in Azkaban under the Dementor's guard.

"And you are Harry Potter of course. Pleased to meet you finally," Elijah Johnson said, extending his hand to Harry.

"And you," Harry replied, still not being able to take his eyes off the man, who looked to be about twenty one years old. Harry was somewhat relieved, somewhat nervous when Ron finally burst out what he had been dying to say.

"You know who you look like? Sirius Black," Ron stated without thought that since Sirius's name hadn't yet been cleared, a comparison may be seen as an insult. To Harry's great astonishment, the man did not bat an eye, but laughed.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore had already informed me of my resemblance to Sirius. He was your Godfather, no?"

'Yes...' Harry answered cautiously.

"And a fine man," Elijah answered sincerely. Now Harry's interest was peaked. "Actually, Harry this is why Dumbledore leant me this book, but I'll need to talk to you in private about that sometime when I've learned more."

Harry had found Elijah intriguing. There was something strange about him. He would not make the mistake of thinking Sirius had come back, even with the likeness so striking. Harry knew Sirius, and he had come to accept that he was gone.

Elijah tried to make himself scarce, but Harry still found it hard to say goodnight to Ginny properly with him around. Ginny told Harry to get some rest as he looked tired, but his pain medication still hadn't taken affect to loosen his back muscles, so when she thought he was safely tucked in bed, he crept back downstairs to sit by the fire for awhile.

Ron was snoring loudly upstairs already. In truth, Harry was hoping to talk to Elijah some more as well. He sat down and waited to see if the young Order member would talk first, because if he didn't Harry felt sure he wouldn't be able to strike up a conversation. Harry sat down first with a copy of 'Quidditch Through The Ages,' which he'd read umpteen times already, not really reading.

"Can't sleep, Harry?" Elijah asked with concern, which was something Harry didn't want.

'Oh, no, just not used to being back yet," he found himself admitting without really wanting to.

"Yeah, it's easy to get turned around after so long somewhere else," Elijah said with understanding as if the same thing had happened to him at some point.

Harry couldn't explain his new found nerve as he began asking the young man questions. "Interesting book?"

"Really interesting. You've no idea," Elijah told him as if taunting him to ask more, so Harry took the bait.

"What's it all about?" Harry asked boldly.

"It's really more of a roll call roster, and a brief history of my...the old house," Elijah quickly corrected, too late to escape Harry's notice.

When Harry's eyebrows shot up at Elijah's mistake, the man smiled indulgently. "Dumbledore told me it would be alright to tell you about something, but mind it's not something everyone will be made privy to until all the research is finished, so if you don't want to keep it mum, stop me here."

Harry was great at keeping secrets, so he figured, 'what's one more?' he thought to himself. His mouth was hanging open in a most undignified stupor when Elijah was finished his story.

"This book is about my old class house," Elijah said simply, waiting for the full effect of this statement to sink into Harry's brain.

"But that would make you..." Harry gaped, unable to finish his sentence for fear of sounding like a fool.

"Over five hundred years old," Elijah said matter- of- factly.

Now Harry felt sure that Dumbledore had appointed a nut case to watch over Gryffindor tower.

"I realize this seems far- fetched," Elijah stated, holding up his hand, but still smiling. Harry greatly regretted giving this young man his word that he would keep the secret, which was so far- fetched, it couldn't possibly be true anyway.

"I would have thought so too, Harry," Elijah told him indulgently. Harry just stared at him as he related, that technically, he was only twenty one years old. "You see, I and the others like me, were under a curse for over five hundred years, until four years ago..." he said, allowing Harry, who had the concentrated look of someone who was doing math in his head, to finish his calculations.

"That's not possible," Harry said disbelievingly, but even he had seen some truly wonderous things in his times at Hogwarts.

"I'd say I would agree with you, Harry, but then, I wouldn't be here, and four years ago, I have to tell you, that I wished I wasn't," Elijah related with a look on his face of genuine sadness. Of the fifty who were cursed, only fifteen of us came out of it."

Harry had seen that haunted look on the young man's face before. He had worn it himself many times, and he now felt gullible as he began to believe Elijah, though every part of his mind advised against it.

"You know Salazar Slytherin never wanted anyone who wasn't Pureblood to attend Hogwarts. He didn't even like the four original houses, so you can imagine the disdain in his memory expressed by the Slytherins five hundred years ago, when Clover House was started. The Slytherins back than vowed that they would get rid of the house which was meant to be a stem for the other four houses to unite on. So ridiculed was Clover House, that many people left of their own accord, but there were fifty of us left, ten of whom who were just about to complete our seventh year...As I said, Slytherins vowed that no Clover House student would complete their magical education, and none of us ever did..."

"What happened?" Harry asked more curious than sympathetic, even upon noticing the sadness that overshadowed the raven haired young man's face. He still would not completely buy into Elijah's story.

My friend Tabias Goldsmith," Elijah began, but Harry heard little else as he recalled this name from a five hundred year old story about the Dragon Child. That was the name from the story, the boy who had been raised by the dragon and had been thought to have attended Hogwarts, but no written history had ever recorded him.

"Tabias and I, and eight others were making our way back to our dorms after completing our N.E.W.T.S., and...and," but Elijah needed a moment to collect himself. Harry was ashamed for hanging on his every word, which he still felt was no more than a story of fancy.

"You see, the Headmaster at the time, allowed the parents of the Slytherins to succeed in their motion to have Clover House Tower magically concealed from the rest of the school from the inside and out. We were taught separately from the rest of the houses, and one day, after another motion to have us banned from the Dining Hall succeeded, the Slytherins celebrated by levitating our house table and chairs out of the castle and crashing it in the Forbidden Forest, telling us to go dine there. We were so close to completing our seventh year and being done here..." Elijah said, shaking his head.

"As I said, we were making our way back to our tower, and when we got there...when we got there...they were gone...all gone..." Elijah shook his head as if still trying to figure all of this out and though Harry still didn't believe him, a lump had still managed to form in his throat. Harry of all people, knew what it was like to be shunned and to lose people.

Harry didn't want to ask what Elijah had meant by gone, but now he felt he didn't really want to know, even if this was just a story.

"We found thirty of our housemate's bodies. No idea what happened to the other ten, only third years they were." Elijah's voice faltered now. "We searched every part of the castle we could think of, even the place you know now as the Chamber of Secrets, and that is where we met our end...and then, four years ago, our beginning..." Elijah didn't seem to know where to continue as Harry, wide awake tried to take it all in.

"Dumbledore had explained to me four years ago when they found us, that the only reason we were ever found, was because of your having found the Chamber in the first place. After you got rid of the basilisk, which we knew nothing of, Dumbledore was having the Chamber of Secrets sealed up permanently incase it held any more unpleasant surprises for future generations. Naturally, the Chamber was searched for it's other secrets, and just as the Unspeakables were about to give up, one of them decided to turn one more stone over before calling it a day. He used a Reveal Charm against one of the floor stones, and it rolled to the side to reveal us, apparently asleep...for over five hundred years." Elijah's face now had a haunted look about it.

"We woke up not knowing it was five hundred years in the future. Our families were dead long ago. We never found the other ten students. It was just us...alone in the world. Dumbledore let us grieve but wouldn't let us give up. For three years we searched the Chamber of Secrets for the other ten who had never been found...We never found them," Elijah said with regret. "It's just us..."

Harry had no idea why in the world he now believed this boy. His name for one thing fit with the time of five hundred years ago and so too did the names of the others who had survived.

Since the families of the dead students were not typically magical in nature, they were simply told that there had been an accident at the school and being Muggle, had no way of investigating this for themselves. For the headmaster's part, Cloverhouse was swept under the rug and never spoken of again.

Clover House had been comprised mostly of Healers and other people who had Wild Magic, like ones who could create weather, which threatened the Slytherins of the time, because none of them had ever seen any such things, nor had they had believed in Healers who could heal without formal training. Wild Magic was thought to have been as dirty as being a Mudblood or a Squib at the time, especially by Slytherin. They had been so segregated that the other houses, although not prejudiced, had little dealing with them. In a matter of ten years, Clover House had disappeared literally with its students as well as its memory, and upon the death of the last close family members over the next seventy years, it was no longer talked about at all.

"We were forgotten," Elijah stated sadly.

Elijah's and the surviving students of Clover House's parents had been dead for over four hundred years, but to them, it was merely four years that had passed since their whole world had died.

"We don't even know for sure who did this to us, but whoever it was, didn't want us to ever wake up. We've talked about it over the past four years, but even if we did find out who did it to us, they would already be dead."

The injustice seemed to cut this young man like a knife, and Harry, being no stranger to injustices of all kinds, felt himself moved to pity.

"I'm sorry about your friends and your family," Harry said sincerely. "But why did you join the Order of the Phoenix? I mean, you've been misplaced for hundreds of years. Why would you want to?"

"Partly because of you," Elijah told Harry, who felt very strange about someone coming from so long ago to help him. "You know, Dumbledore's Army," laughed Elijah. "That's what the Headmaster called us starting last year when you started your secret defence club. And partly because we had no where else to go. We were only sixteen, some of us, and some seventeen. We looked for our old dorms, but we couldn't find them at all. Your friend Ginny unfortunately helped to find it for us..."

Harry shivered remembering Ginny's kidnapping.

"You know, I found my belongings, and my wife, my girlfriend at the time, whose sister was one of the missing Clover House members, found her only picture of her family shortly after the old dorms were searched. I wish I'd brought a picture of my family when I came to Hogwarts too, but I thought I'd be teased. I wish I'd have known..."

Harry didn't know why on Earth he found himself not only believing this boy, but volunteering personal information to him.

"I only have a few pictures of my parents and my godfather as well," Harry told him.

"Ah, yes, Dumbledore told us all about you. He's the only one who tried to help us get our lives back. The ministry of Magic refused to acknowledge us, calling us frauds...I wish we were."

"So, now you're all of the remaining Clover House survivors are members of the Order?"

"It was really the only employment we could get, and we are honoured to be a part of an organization that is fighting the same darkness that basically killed us off. Well we're alive, but we are so far out of our element, some of us have real trouble coping. No, not me. I've come to accept it, but I was one of the lucky ones. I had my girlfriend and my best friend with me when I came to. A few of our members are rather quick to volunteer for hazardous duty I'm afraid, feeling that there's not much to go on for. Dumbledore had to withdraw a few of them because they were taking too many risks. He wanted to show them that their lives were worth going on for, but unfortunately one of us didn't make it. Joshua Clementine went with a group of Aurors to St Mungo's last August when there was an explosion..." Elijah shook his head sadly.

Harry now knew that there had been casualties on the night Voldemort had tried to attack him as he lay dying in St Mungos.

"It was just that, since he did not technically exist, Joshua Clementine was not counted as a casualty. The Ministry of Magic offered to acknowledge the death if we would reveal who Joshua really was. They figured they'd get to the bottom of some great hoax perpetrated by Dumbledore and squelch the rumours of a five hundred year old cover up by the Ministry at the same time."

Harry knew that Dumbledore had just been trying to spare his feelings, knowing he would feel guilty that someone had died to save him. Next to his own life story, Elijah and his friends ones ran a close tie to being as tragic. To awaken after five hundred years only to die for another, was as tragic as anything Harry had ever heard.

Seeing Harry's pained expression as the tally of people who had died because of any association with him rise by one more tonight, Elijah assured Harry. "It's not your fault. Josh kept volunteering for dangerous missions He just couldn't get used to being in this time, with no history, no family..." Elijah went on. "That was Slytherin's fault, just as it seems most of your troubles are. We remaining nine feel that if we can help you, we are really helping ourselves too. We will never be able to punish the ones who did this to us, but we can help you fight your battle. We knew of the prophecy even before you did, and that is nothing to brag about...We know that Dumbledore only told us about you and your fight, to save us. We had nothing to live for until we were given a purpose, and that purpose, for now, is you.

Overwhelmed could not describe the way Harry felt. He had his friends, Ginny, and now, these people who leapt off the pages of a storybook seemingly. It was for this reason also, that Dumbledore had never spoken of them before, because he knew that Harry would protest anyone so young joining so dangerous a mission, and also because these misplaced children needed a place to stay where they could feel useful and wanted.

Elijah's shift was ending as Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way to the last Potions Lesson before the Spring break would begin. As they entered, Elijah took his leave of them and as Elijah rounded the corner, Harry saw him meet up with Tyler as if he had known him for months, and nothing would surprise Harry now about that.

Tyler had fit into Hogwarts right from the start, better than anyone wizard born ever had before, and he, being a part of the new Clover House, might be able to extend a hand of friendship to the misplaced out of time ones who had been woken in the Chamber of Secrets four years ago. Harry felt Elijah and Tyler had a lot in common, as Elijah had also expressed a desire to still become a Healer like he had set out to do over five hundred years ago when his life had been suspended.

Potions was no longer the fearful experience it had been when Harry had first rejoined regular classes. Harry had found a way to remain calm during Snape's harassments and insults. In some small part of his mind that still tried to figure the man out, Harry wondered if Snape was just so mean to him because the eyes of Slytherins were on him as he taught the boy who was the bane of Voldemort. After all, why had he tried so hard to make Harry fight for his life in the woods months ago?

Harry's feet felt like lead weights as he and Ron said goodbye to Hermione to make their way to the Divination tower where they would be taught by Professor Trelawny today. With her latest predictions regarding the Ides of March and March going in a lamb and going out like a lion, Harry was very disconcerted. She had looked through her magnified spectacles straight into his very soul when she had mentioned March going out like a lion, and Harry did not know if she knew what form he took as his Animagus, which was Griffin...half lion.

What was worse, March had indeed come in like a lamb, with all the signs of an early Spring, only to grow steadily worse as the month went on, with heavy raging snow storms which beat the walls of the castle, necessitating extra fires for warmth in the corridors.

The Divination Tower, usually stifling warm even in winter, was drafty today. Ron had helped Harry manage climbing up the ladder, as this task was still a bit beyond his capabilities with his lingering back problems, especially when the weather was particularly cold and damp like today. So as to make Harry more comfortable, Ron threw his cloak to him and nodded for him to put it on. Usually, Harry would have argued, but Ron had had the good sense to wear two of his mother's knitted sweaters so he was somewhat better prepared.

Professor Trelawny, who wore long wooly shawls, even in the summer months, was of course freezing. She cancelled the planned lesson of the day, and instead instructed everyone to drink the steaming mugs of tea before them to warm up, and to be read later. Harry groaned, knowing the outcome would not be good. He shot Ron a look that said quite clearly, 'just make something stupid up when you read mine.'

Harry's face paled when he took Ron's tea leaves to read as he consulted the book to see what the pattern on the cup's bottom would mean. Ron's cup had frosted on the bottom already. The Divination Tower was cold, but not cold enough to freeze a newly finished cup of tea. Harry dropped the consultation book as he saw beneath the frost at the bottom of the cup, a vision of Ron's face, trying to break out to come to the surface, but his face turned blue and he sank helplessly out of sight as the frost melted and the tea leaves became visible again. Harry's hands trembled as he dropped the cup which clattered to the floor, shattering with a fine mist of vapour coming from the dregs. No one else had seen this vision.

Ron had been just about to make up something convincing about Harry's tea leaves, but instead he found himself kneeling in front of Harry's chair where he sat, holding his hands over his face, saying, 'no, please, no..." in a pleading voice.

Professor Trelawny seemed concerned, but at the same time, too excited, which irritated Ron, who told her in no uncertain terms, to back off, as she had begun prodding Harry to share with the class what he had just seen.

"Harry, look at me," Ron commanded, wondering if he should call someone. Harry tried to tell himself that he was just tired. He had only just been making it through his classes and supper before falling asleep usually on one of the sofas in the Gryffindor common room. Ginny had become as bossy as Hermione, warning people to be quiet, lest they wake him. Most people found ways to place silencing charms on their activities, and Harry had no idea how many people were making sacrifices for him to be able to be back in his own familiar Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry forced himself to look at Ron, fully expecting to see the blue faced version of his friend from the frozen tea cup. It was as if Dementors had touched the cup, frosting the contents, but his very much pink- cheeked- from- the- cold friend stood looking worried up at him, taking both of his hands, lest he try to place them back over his face.

Ron was admittedly worried about the reaction Harry had had upon seeing his tea leaves, but he reasoned that Harry was overwrought from too much activity lately in his condition and left it at that, although he wanted to know, and at the same not know, what the outcome had been. Ron had never put much if any stock in Divination, so whether good or bad, if Harry would tell him, he vowed not to worry much over it.

"Come on mate, you've had enough for today," Ron told Harry firmly, gathering up both their books. Ron wanted to take Harry to see Madam Pomfrey, but Harry insisted he just needed to rest, so they made their way back to the Common Room where it was just the two of them. Ron felt very disconcerted as Harry poured over his Divination Text, glancing nervously at Ron every so often, who decided that Harry shouldn't be left alone right now.

Harry looked like he had seen a ghost every time he chanced a glance at his best friend, and Ron watched the clock carefully, longing for the time when classes would end and Hermione and Ginny would return to keep an eye on Harry with him.

Harry fell asleep, Divination Text in hand a half hour before the Common Room would be filled with happy students about to start Spring Break. He was exhausted and dreams took him immediately, directly affected by the horrifying image in the tea cup. Harry had wanted to tell Ron what he had seen, but he decided to talk to Dumbledore about it first. He didn't want his best friend to worry needlessly over what he had hoped was just an overactive imagination, but Trelawny had seen the frozen teacup as well as all the other students in the Divination Class that afternoon, and no ones else's had frozen over like his had. Harry was just grateful that no one else had seen the gruesome image at the bottom of the frozen cup, which was now a topic of hot conversation.

Ron had been just about to cover Harry with a blanket from the chair, even though he knew Harry would not approve, as he fought against fussing of any kind, usually losing. As Ron draped the blanket to make it look like it had accidentally fallen down on Harry, he jumped as Harry began to scream in a terrified wail.

"Ron! NO! Let him go!" Harry was having a bizarre dream. Ron was now in the teacup, sinking out of sight to the bottom as Harry poured the contents out onto the floor frantically in search of his friend. The odd dream that Harry had had on the operating table back in the Muggle hospital meshed in with this horrifying one. Snape figure skating as he had been in the dream before, but then he stopped, and tried to beat the surface of the tea on the floor to get Ron out.

Ron shook Harry as hard as he dared and he let out a sigh of relief when Harry's eyes fluttered open and he sat up, sweat standing out on his brow in the cold Common Room, causing him to shudder violently.

"It's okay, mate, it was just a nightmare," Ron said hopefully as he draped the blanket around Harry's shoulders, becoming worried when Harry didn't protest like usual. Whatever it was, Ron knew it involved him now and it wasn't good, but still, Harry did not want to worry him.

"Yeah..." Harry lied slowly, trying to stop his wildly beating heart from leaping from his chest. Ron handed him a glass of water, which he drank slowly, and noticed too late, that Ron had put a Calming Tablet into it.

Ron had promised Ginny that he would look after Harry a little more while she studied more for her O.W.L.S. He had seen Ginny do this for Harry many times since he had moved back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry wanted to be mad, but with the Calming Draft, he couldn't manage it, but he vowed that if he remembered, Ron would get an earful later. He felt his pulse slow down and a warm sleepy feeling creep into his tired mind.

Ron was glad break had finally come. He knew Harry would have ended up back in the Hospital Wing with the pace he was trying to keep. Without magical intervention into his treatment, Harry would still be in hospital, only now beginning to rehabilitate, and Ron more than anyone knew that he had not been sleeping well now with all the burdens he had.

Ginny took one look at Harry's glassy eyes and knew immediately something had happened.

"What did he need the Calming Potion for?" she asked sadly. Ron was reluctant to tell her, because he knew her worry would just split into two for he and Harry. Ron left the two of them alone to go meet Hermione, who would just be getting out of Arithmancy now.

So intent upon his walk was he, that he almost walked right into his girlfriend.

"Whoa there, Ron, try looking up instead of at your feet," Hermione smiled

"Hm...what...oh, Hermione, didn't see you there," Ron said distractedly.

"What's up, Ron?" Hermione asked, finding herself studying his frame to see if he was alright, and seeing he was, at least physically, asked, "Is it Harry? Has something happened?" She didn't want to admit that Trelawny's prediction about March and the bad tidings had affected her, even given the source, which she felt wholly unreliable.

"No..." Ron stammered, as Hermione felt her shoulders fall again, if only for a moment. "Well, not exactly, but I think he saw something today in Divination, in tea leaves...about me." Ron looked ashamed for admitting he felt apprehensive, though he still had no idea what Harry had seen.

"What did he see?"

"No idea, but I know it was about me, because he was screaming for someone to save me," Ron told her.

Hermione gripped Ron's hand sympathetically, trying to console him, though she now felt apprehensive herself. She tried not to show it, reverting back to her mocking tone she reserved especially for Trelawny. "The grim... the grim," she mocked. "Rubbish that was, so is this," she finished with resolve.

"Yeah, but it wasn't her who said it, and Harry didn't even have to look at the guide to know what the image in the frozen teacup meant, so it must have been quite clear," Ron surmised.

"We can't know anything for sure until Harry's ready to talk about it. Why don't we go and ask him?" Hermione suggested.

"Well, he wasn't ready to tell me before and even if he is ready now, we won't be getting anything out of him until tomorrow. I gave him a really strong Calming Potion," Ron admitted, wondering now whether he had done so for his friend's well being or to prolong the time it would take until Harry would tell him of his horrible fate. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Is he asleep right now?" Hermione asked.

"Not sure," Ron told her wearily, taking her heavy book bag from her. "I left him with Ginny and that new young Order member, Terrace, who took over after Elijah's shift.

"Well, we'd better give Ginny a hand," Hermione said, quickening her pace, but secretly, she hoped that Harry would be able to tell them of his vision without it bothering him too much to do so, under the effects of the Calming Potion, which when manipulated properly, would become much like a truth potion. She felt guilty for these thoughts, but in the end, some secrets were dangerous, so she felt justified.

Back in the Common Room, Ginny was rubbing Harry's back to try to get him to go to sleep. She was mad at herself for not noticing how tired he had been looking and when Terrace, who was Elijah's wife told him that Harry had been up in the middle of the night on her own night shift as well as Elijah's. If he kept up this pace, Madam Pomfrey would make him move back to the Hospital Wing, and Ginny knew that Harry could not take this.

Ginny remembered feeling glad when a couple of Quidditch matches had been cancelled due to weather, something unheard of usually. She felt loathe to admit that she knew Harry would have performed poorly at these times. He'd been pushing himself too hard, trying to keep up with everyone when he'd been warned that this year, that would not be possible.

When Ron and Hermione came through the portrait hole, Ginny stood up and flung her arms around Ron, sobbing. Harry had told her of the horrible vision of Ron trapped beneath the surface of liquid, falling into the inky blackness to resurface no more. Ginny just had that effect on Harry. He could not resist telling her his feelings and fears, save one, that he'd never be able to give her what she wanted.

Harry felt stung when he heard Ginny telling Ron what he had told her moments before.

Ron was now being fiercely hugged by Hermione, who was sobbing along with Ginny. Ron looked at Harry helplessly, refusing to give him to the pebble of panic he felt upon hearing his tea leaf destiny.

'Great, now I've done it,' fumed Harry to himself, for even through the fog in his brain from the Calming Draft, he could feel their fear. As much as Ron, Hermione and Ginny tried to drop the subject and assure him that the tea leaves had been no more than a daydream, the Ides of March were quickly approaching...

A/N Congratulations to Cynthia 1850 for the closest cure for Lycanthropy! 'Werewolf pee taken from a werewolf on the night of a full moon!'...OMG I wish I'd thought of that! (No it's not that, but I have to give you credit for a very original if not painful cure for both harvester and receiver) It is revealed in a couple chapters and Lupin won't be the only needing it! I am doing a happy dance because this story was written before HBP came out and I have werewolves involved in the final battle as well just like in canon. Okay, I'm finished dancing about... and now, a message from our sponsors...well okay, it's just me again...

Okay, we are down to the wire on this one, folks. When we next see Harry, the Ides of March will be upon the friends and with it, the beginning of the end. I really appreciate all of the kind reviews and support you have all shown me throughout my first story. A few more chapters and an epilogue is all that's left and we will finally see Ginny become the weapon that the Dark Lord knows not. Please review if you have time, and again, thanks so much for reading! resumes dancing


	53. Death In The DA

When Harry woke from his long sleep on the first day of Spring break, his scar hurt dully, something he hadn't felt since Voldemort had been forced from his mind by Ginny. No one else was awake yet and he felt strangely hung over from the Calming Potion Ron had given him. He put on his house robes and padded out of the room. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts about what his vision of Ron drowning in frozen water could mean, for that is what he had seen is his teacup in Divination. But there sat Elijah, with his wife Terrace, pouring over the contents of the Clover House history book like it was a precious artifact, which he reasoned finally, it was. It was their only link to their true past over five hundred years ago. He couldn't avoid them as he made his way down the stairs.

Elijah and Terrace could see right away that Harry wasn't well. He didn't know these people and he didn't want them fussing over him, but he didn't know what was worse, them summoning Madam Pomfrey, or offering to help him themselves. His decision was made for him as his scar exploded and Elijah helped him to the couch. He almost let out a cry of anguish, but bit his lip in an attempt not to wake up the whole dorm. His friends would be furious if they had known he did not call for their help as he had been instructed.

Harry knew that this time, Voldemort was not aware that Harry could feel his emotions. The Dark Lord had not been trying to summon Harry like he had been earlier this year and Harry could almost feel a burned out sensation from him...burned out, but determined, determined to end this, like Harry had been all year. Harry knew he was hidden from the Dark Lord's sights, but he knew Voldemort was plotting his attack, the one Trewlawny and Firenze had predicted and even Snape had alluded to. Harry shivered as he again saw a glassy surface, but not a soul was anywhere near in this vision.

The pain receded from his scar, but Harry still felt sick, and felt sure the contents of his stomach wouldn't stay where they were. He stood up to try to make it to the bathroom, but swayed on his feet as Elijah caught him. He was too weak to protest when Terrace placed her hands on his stomach and chest. The acid that had been creeping up his throat, lost it's burning quality and seemed to go back to where it should be. He no longer felt like wretching, but lay still breathing heavily on the couch. When he had mastered himself, he asked, "how did you do that?"

"I'm like Tyler," Terrace told him, knowing that Harry was familiar with the healing powers Tyler possessed. I was here to study my gifts before..." she finished, looking at Elijah, who squeezed her hand. A noise startled all of them as Ginny hurried down from the girls dorms looking worried.

"Harry, what's wrong? I thought with that Calming Potion Ron gave you, you'd sleep for a week," she stated, wondering just what this young woman was doing sitting beside her boyfriend. Terrace moved to let Ginny sit beside Harry. As Harry recovered, Ginny was told the whole story of Clover House.

Of all the people who would soon learn of the secret Fifth House, Ginny understood better than any of them would what being locked in the Chamber of Secrets, even for a short time, was like. It had been bad enough waking up in her own time, let alone what these people sitting before her had gone through, waking up five hundred years later.

It was Ginny who insisted that Ron and Hermione and other DA members should be informed of the Fifth House and its remaining members from the past as the newcomers were in actuality, the first part of Dumbledore's Army.

Ron, having lain awake worrying about Harry and his prediction, wasn't happy when Ginny came up to the boy's dorms to wake him to come downstairs to hear the story of Clover House at first.

Fred and George had left the castle the previous night to attend to their shop so they missed the initial revelation.

The Gryffindor members of the DA listened in fascination to the story of Clover House unfold. What was more, Harry hadn't been told that Elijah, who had been researching the book the most, now figured that Tyler Golden may have been a part of Tabias Goldsmith's family, one of the first members of Clover House, one of the ten people who hadn't been found among the living or the dead bodies of the thirty that had been found in the ruins of Clover House tower.

Of the lists of Clover House members from five hundred years ago, no other family matches besides the possible one of Tyler to the Goldsmith family, had been made. Record keeping had not been as popular in the Muggle world back than, and those few members from the wizarding world had lost records to time and lost memories over the years.

Tyler would be fascinated with the story of the Dragon Child, Tobias Goldsmith, particularly now that it may pertain to his family and would explain some of Tyler's Wild Magic, which had skipped generations out of count until he was born for some reason.

Recently, some Slytherin first years had found out that Tyler could speak to animals somewhat and he was beginning to experience some of the same prejudices he'd faced in the Muggle world. Being a Parsletongue like Harry was one thing, but being able to converse with beasts of other varieties set Tyler apart from all the other students...until now. In all, there were two other of the newly awakened Clover House members who could converse with animals. There had been nine with this gift, but only two who had the healing gift for animals came back.

When the sun finally came up in the sky, it was obscured by the heavy white clouds, which had angry grey edges and gave off a mournful feeling of despair. Elijah and Terrace made their way to talk to Tyler and his mother about the possible family history links, each secretly wishing that they had found a tie to their own family, but finding comfort in their new...old surroundings. It had been fascinating to the rest of the DA members to learn of the Forgetfulness Charm each old member had radiated, to make the other students feel like they had seen them at the school before but could not place them. To most people at the school, these young people had always been here.

The Gryffindors all sat together sipping their tea, until Harry decided it was time to consult Dumbledore about what had taken place in Professor Trelawny's classroom with the disturbing vision of Ron drowning. He wanted to go alone because he wanted to stop in to see Madam Pomfrey on his way to pick up his potions that she still had him on.

Harry became instantly alarmed when he saw Professor Lupin lying on his side on one of the beds, curtain drawn halfway around his bed.

"Remus!" Harry gasped, rushing to the professor's bedside. Remus Lupin looked rather ill, but no more than usual after a transformation to werewolf, but his transformation should have been five days from now, April first, according to the lunar calender.

"Professor Lupin, are you ill?" Harry asked, worried.

Remus Lupin smiled wearily at Harry, looking like he wished that Harry hadn't arrived just now.

Snape hesitated, sweeping around the corner of Lupin's cubicle upon seeing Harry standing at his bedside.

"You'll need to get out of my way now, Potter," Snape sneered at Harry, in a somewhat nicer tone than he would normally use if just he had been here.

"Harry, be a good lad and go see Madam Pomfrey. I'll see you soon," Remus assured Harry, giving Harry no account as to why he was in hospital again. Harry was very worried, but Snape and Lupin both seemed so urgent about something, that Harry heeded the request and searched for Madam Pomfrey.

As the matron placed Harry's medicines into vials, Harry strained to hear Snape talking to Remus. His heart sank, feeling that maybe Lupin was dying or something, someone else was leaving him, but he caught different snippets of the conversation, trying to look like he was paying attention to the Matron telling him what to take and when. He wished he could turn into his Animagus form, the Griffin, so his ears could pick up the conversation, but this was not possible. For some reason, no matter how hard he tried over the last few months, against everyone's warnings of over- doing it, he had tried and failed to turn into his Animagus form. It seemed his status as an Animagi was only fear induced. He kept telling himself that he'd get better at it and transform at will, but he was beginning to have his doubts.

Just thinking of the freedom of being a Griffin seemed to sharpen his ears...

"Right then, we'll try five days beforehand this time, Lupin," Snape could be heard saying. "This sample of your own hair was collected around the fifteenth of the month, when you are at your peak human DNA, according to our calculations. After you take it in the concentrated form of Polyjuice Potion mixed with Wolfsbane, we will monitor you to see it works this time. As time goes on, we'll also monitor to see if you can get used to the high doses of Polyjuice Potion without the side- effect of prolonged nausea." Snape sounded like he was talking to a lab rat, instead of someone he had known and Harry felt angry.

Harry left the Hospital Wing, small velvet bag of his medicines in his hand as he went off to Dumbledore's office. The password was Canary Creams in honour of Fred and George's invention and their upcoming nineteenth birthdays. Harry knew he was there to tell the Headmaster about his vision in the tea leaves, but now his mind was focussed on his father's friend, Remus.

Harry found Dumbledore most willing and enthused to talk to him about Remus's treatment, as he called it. Apparently, Hermione had started researching werewolf anatomy when she had learned that Malcolm Edgecombe, Marietta's father, who had impersonated Lupin during Family Week to spy on security arrangements, had himself transformed into a werewolf, but once only following the taking of Polyjuice Potion with one of Professor Lupin's hairs from only a day before he was to transform; unbeknownst to the imposter who had taken the most convenient sample from a cloak hanging in the hall outside the teacher's lounge. The following month, the man did not transform.

Passing this information off to Professor Dumbledore who then handed it off to Snape as the next logical step since Snape was in charge of making the Wolfesbane Potion to make Remus less dangerous and in his right mind during full moons, Hermione had felt confident that something could be done to treat werewolves like Lupin, not curing them, but providing an effective life improving treatment.

In theory, and for once Snape agreed, that since Malcolm Edgecomb had only transformed once, and the following month he did not, it was thought that the Polyjuice Potion acted as a reminder to the cells of the body that this was its natural form and therefore should not transform.

Malcolm Edgecomb should have transformed into a werewolf almost immediately after taking something with Lupin's DNA in it, but the Wolfsbane had prevented it, so when the Polyjuice was naturally gone from his body, and Lupin's DNA was still lingering in his body the following month, he had transformed without the Polyjuice or Wolfsbane benefit, at least that's what Hermione had hoped, as this would have potential to treat lycanthropy effectively and give people their lives back. So far, the new combination of potions had been ineffective in stopping the transformations and had been very hard on Lupin as well, who was the first volunteer test subject.

After telling Dumbledore of his visions in the tea leaves of Ron sinking under liquid until he disappeared into nothingness, Harry closed his eyes waiting for Dumbledore to cancel the next Hogsmeade visit, which was April first, the day of the play about the history of witch's rights that it seemed most people were now going to. A day packed with so many special things like Fred and George's birthday and start of Spring sale at all the shops.

Dumbledore did not try to downplay Harry's vision, for which Harry was grateful, but he did not cancel the Hogsmeade trip either, for which he was even more grateful. He had been the cause of enough being cooped for one year.

Dumbledore was going down to the Hospital Wing to check on Remus, so Harry asked if he could come along, as Snape had ushered him out before he'd even gotten a chance to talk to his favourite teacher. It still seemed as though the old man would grant any wish within reason of the boy whom he'd kept in the dark for far too long.

Harry had a pang of jealousy when Dumbledore informed him that Sirius had met and spent time with the Clover House students while he had been in hiding from the law in Grimmauld and they had been hiding from grief and trying to come to terms with the fact that they had awakened five hundred years in the future to find everything gone.

Dumbledore was sorry he had once again failed to tell Harry everything he had known, although until this year alone, the Clover House legend did not intertwine in the boy's already complicated life.

Harry actually laughed out loud upon hearing that Elijah, who had awoken with a very short hair style, grew his long raven hair to look like Sirius' on purpose after being told he resembled the man.

"Wait 'til he meets Mrs Weasley and Bill," mused Harry, thinking of the argument that would ensue when Bill would undoubtedly encourage the boy to have his ear pierced as well to go with the mane of long hair.

Harry found himself reaching for Lupin's hand as the pale man looked up at him with a brave smile through agonizing pain as his body conflicted with the potions he was taking. Lupin had always missed a great deal of time from school being sick before and after his transformations. Harry was reminded of the potion that George had endured to mend the tendons in his arm.

"Sirius always said Hermione was the brightest witch of her age. She has a knack for detective work in spotting the fact that Edgecombe transformed only once after he didn't have Polyjuice Potion in his system. I wouldn't have even formed any conclusions about that myself, and Severus hadn't considered it either. Tell her I'm doing well. She hasn't visited yet. I think she's too afraid that she'd been wrong to suggest some testing, since I volunteered to be the first test subject. She said I shouldn't do it because if anything went wrong, you couldn't stand to lose someone else in your life. I did tell her that she should happy for me...after all, if this succeeds, I could become your legal guardian until your eighteenth birthday like you wanted. As it stands, under wizarding law, I am unable to take that position legally as you know, but if I can control my condition for three months consecutively, I can appeal to have my ban on raising minors lifted."

Tears welled in Harry's eyes. Lupin was putting himself forward for him. He could have waited for another volunteer to come forward to make sure it was safe, but again, this boiled down to him. Everything did, for upon Harry's shoulders rested the weight of the world and there were those willing to take any means to help him.

Harry felt a little more comfortable when Lupin smiled and told him quite seriously that Tonks was still a young woman who would be quitting being an Auror after the war to settle into a family life. He wanted so desperately to be the one to give her that life, and though she had assured him that she could do without a family if it were impossible, Snape had proven himself useful once more when he had suggested that research into the possibility of conception during high human DNA spikes might result in normal human pregnancy.

When Lupin grew too tired to continue the visit and fell asleep, Harry went back to the dorms forgetting his medicines altogether, so anxious was he to relate all that he had learned.

Hermione laughed upon hearing of men talking about conception and cycles, just like when human Muggles use methods of temperature and cycles to find the best time to become pregnant. In this case of Human DNA spikes, it would be the partner with the lycanthropy who would have to monitor all the cycles of the moon, and in over half of the cases of the affliction, it would be the male.

Despite the dire predictions made by Trelawny and confirmed by Firenze, the Hogsmeade Spring break visit did not get cancelled. Security was at an all time high as students prepared to leave the castle to visit Hogsmeade for only the second time that year. As a special treat, due to the having been cooped up for far too long, Dumbledore had allowed second years to visit the village so long as they had been able to persuade a student from fourth year or above to accompany them and stay with them at all times. This would explain the money exchanges and slave labour performed by the second years for anyone willing to take them to the village.

Fred and George, always looking for 'volunteers' to test out merchandise on, had accepted two such second years to sponsor as guardians, much to the displeasure of their dates, Angelina and Katie Bell. The twins had managed to get two extra tickets to the play, which did not please the younger kids who would be in their care. They were assured that they would get to Honeydukes and even receive some free merchandise from the twins Hogsmeade store if they behaved themselves through the boring performance. Fred wanted to kick Harry for getting him the tickets, but actually, Angelina was so thrilled to see the play, he figure it would pay off later in the way of snogging.

Harry had actually thought of staying at the castle, but he didn't want to disappoint Ginny, who really needed a break from her strenuous studies for O.W.L.S. His scar had prickled much like it had done for years now when Voldemort was about or plotting heavily, but no specific or impulsive impression came with it. Harry felt tense, but tried not to show it as they made their way down to the village.

The twins and their dates and the two second year Gryffindors, Steven temple and Lukas Walker, walked slightly ahead of Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna. This would also be the day when Elijah and Terrace would see the village of Hogsmeade in over five hundred years.

Harry regretted that this time, Professor Lupin was unable to come to the village. Today, April first was the day he would find out if the combination of Polyjuice Potion, Wolfsbane and a sample of his own hair from exactly halfway through a lunar cycle, would work together to prevent his transformation from human to werewolf. He would not let Tonks stay with him to find out if it would work, as a precautionary procedure that he had insisted upon himself, would have upset her greatly. Remus had insisted that he be shackled to his bed should he transform and lose himself. He could not bear to hurt someone should anything go wrong, not even the Potions Master who had plagued his every step when he had been young.

Ginny looked happy to get out of the castle, though it was so very cold, that without the Warming Charms they had placed upon the group, it would have been impossible to have left the castle. Today, due to the weather, they would not be walking into the village, just to meet the Thestrals who would pull the wagons to the village.

The glazed look of the young men entering the theatre where the play was to be put on, contrasted the happy anticipation on the faces of the young women in the audience.

"You did a nice thing," Ginny smiled at Harry, as she looked at Hermione's too happy smile at being here.

Professor McGonagall sat just behind the group with Professor Flitwick and Tonks. As Harry glanced around, he saw Elijah and Terrace who were clearly here on duty, walk, each in opposite directions around the entire theatre perimeter. Mad Eye Moody, hat perched over his magical eye, prowled the other side while Kingsley Shaklebolt stood right at the entrance to the theatre. He let himself relax a little bit. The whole place was surrounded by Aurors.

If Harry had been able to relax just a little bit more, he might have fallen asleep as the narrator read dully from a script to outline a timeline for the audience. When the dusty curtains went up, a small set looking like a very small living room came into view. An old woman held a cat as she glanced out of the fake window, giving a soliloquy about what she could see through it, which was an early crude game of Quidditch being played over a marsh. This held he and Ron's attention for almost three minutes until she took up a quill and began to read to the audience what she had just written to her sister about losing the old homestead because of not being able to pay a fine for having saved a rare Golden snitch bird from a group of Quidditch players who were going to kill it.

In the second act, there were several women all in old fashioned robes, carrying placards and marching around the stage while a group of harassed looking men watched with wagging heads.

Harry didn't know when it had happened, but he had fallen asleep. Ginny didn't have the heart to nudge him awake, so she just let him rest. He still hadn't been sleeping well and had spent most nights talking to Elijah about life five hundred years ago. It had definitely been more interesting than this play, which actually, Elijah and Terrace found fascinating, since it was closer to their time than Harry's.

When Harry moaned softly in his sleep in an anguished sort of way, Ginny decided she had better nudge him gently awake. He would never forgive himself for crying out in his sleep and ruining an entire performance for the actors and the audience. He would be so embarrassed.

"Harry...Harry love, wake up," Ginny coaxed softly. The theatre was dark and warm and Harry did not respond, but continued to dream and had started to bat away imaginary foes. Ginny reached a hand to his face to gently bring him around, but when she touched his scar, she let out a gasp of despair. She had been burned! Harry let out a blood curdling scream that chilled the air, causing the actors on stage to stop what they were doing mid sentence and look for the source of the noise. Some of them looked angry, others confused. Harry could feel the burn in his scar like someone had set a fire in his skull. He woke up, mouth dry from screaming.

"Lumos!" Harry cried as the house lights came on, revealing without warning at least fifteen Death Eaters in the theatre. Reflexes born out of training with the DA sprang to immediate life within every DA student in the audience. Harry hit one of the Death Eaters by the door as Shaklebolt finished the man off.

"Run!" Harry warned. "Get yourselves back to the castle!" Harry knew he had to get as far away from his friends as possible. This was it, Voldemort wanted his domain and he wanted it now. The Death Eaters in the theatre had underestimated the deluge they received from the students and teachers in the audience. They were all incapacitated in moments.

As Harry made to sneak out of the theatre, a pair of strong hands spun him around. He expected it was Fred or George by the force, but when he turned, it was to see a tear streaked face of Ginny.

"Harry you need us, you have to stay close. You know this..." Ginny only hoped Harry would listen to reason. She knew he didn't want them to die with him. As she detained him, he no longer had a clear path out anymore. The twins, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna as well as several other DA members all stood protectively around him. He had no choice. Harry was not strong enough for a fight of this magnitude yet. They needed to get back to what they hoped would still be a safe haven together.

But Hogwarts was no longer a safe haven. This was the attack that Voldemort had hidden from Harry in his mind successfully for much of this year now. Ginny's love for Harry had completed the cycle of love surrounding and protecting Harry that his own mother had started, but it had also protected Harry from being pulled into Voldemort's vicious mind attacks, with one flawed side effect. Harry no longer knew Voldemort's plans or strongest emotions, and he hadn't since that night when Ginny had almost sacrificed herself to save him from Voldemort's mind clutches. The tie had been almost severed both ways, save for the pain in his scar which was just a message of fear now. Why had he come? He should have stayed behind, or he should have went in search of Voldemort by himself, but his dreams haunted him even now, the ones where he learnt that he'd done the wrong thing going off by himself and had gotten everyone killed when they had tried to follow or look for him.

Ginny placed her arms around Harry and kissed him for a second, begging him to remember what it all meant. He had to trust that somehow, though he knew he was the one destined to do this task of getting rid of the Dark Lord or die trying, he wasn't meant to do it alone. He wanted to run, but she had a hold on him that was not just physical and even if she didn't , Fred and George were standing back to back, wands drawn to protect them, and they would not let him go on his own either. There was no time for indecision, so Harry started to fire orders at everyone.

"Fred, George, get these two," he indicated pointing to the two terrified second years, 'to Honeydukes and get them started in the tunnels back to the school. Gather as many people as you can to go with you to get them out of here."

The twins took Harry at his word that he would stay with the group and left to carry out their part of the retreat. They half ran, half carried the scared second year boys between themselves and Angelina and Katie Belle. Harry saw a masked man crumple to the cobblestoned road as Angelina hit him with a spell over her shoulder. There was no time to marvel at how well the DA had trained these people.

Harry was fearful and grateful that the Death Eaters approaching the theatre were not randomly killing off passers by. They seemed focussed on one thing, and he knew that it was him.

Harry was at least able to send Ginny and most of the others to the back of the theatre to see if there was another way out as more Death Eaters converged on the theatre. There was an explosion that rocked the theatre as dozens of patrons fled toward the exits, knocking one another over.

Light blonde hair stuck out from under a hood as Harry turned around to hear Lucius Malfoy's voice taunting him.

"A little morsel for my Lord to play with to warm up for you I think," Lucius hissed with hatred. Ginny had stunned two of his partners before he was hit with a Full Body Bind Curse. Harry could see her wide dread filled eyes as Lucius dragged her out of the back door of the theatre, spells aimed from Ron and Hermione bouncing off of him as he strode away with his prize. Harry yelled in cold fury as Lucius reached the back of the theatre, flinging open the doors to find nothing. Outside, it was eerily quiet, while inside, the battle raged still.

Back at the castle, news of the attack had just arrived. Snape had been giving Lupin a dose of potion every hour on the hour and though Lupin looked like he was going through a lot of pain, he had not as yet felt the pang of transformation. In one hour, it would be six o'clock and it would go dark and the moon would rise. In one hour, he would have known what the outcome would be. Would he be free, or would he remain, a slave to his disease?

Lupin was horror stricken and was about to rise upon hearing the sirens announcing an attack and call for help from the village.

Snape looked almost sympathetic as he was summoned to leave the castle at once to help in any capacity he could without getting caught by the other side. One more slip up on his part and Voldemort would kill him as the traitor he was.

Guilt plagued Remus Lupin once more, cursed his disease; he would not be able to help Harry this night. He remained chained to his bed in the Hospital Wing, worried out of his mind for Harry and then another panic seized him... If the war was lost tonight and the Death Eaters found him here, chained to this bed, they could use him as a weapon later, not giving him his wolfsbane and unleashing him for sport when they felt like it. It was the stuff of nightmares for people with lycanthropy.

Remus Lupin pleaded with Madam Pomfrey who almost pictured him as he had been as a young teenager when he'd first been placed in her care. She had known this boy for years. Remus had been trustworthy, and she felt for him now, chained up as he was, vulnerable to attack should things go as wrong as they were going in the village.

"Remus, promise me," she said, taking her hands and placing them under the man's chin to make him look at her, "That you will take your potions, go to the Shrieking Shack and lie low. Take meticulous notes on your condition, taking the potion every hour on the hour. Promise me you will stay hidden, away from people, no matter what." As she finished, she did not make Remus voice his promise. She took the heavy iron keys and unlocked Remus, hugged him tightly as though it may be the last she would see of him and sent him on his way as she prepared a bag with medical supplies to head to the edge of the village where already, wounded were starting to gather. Some of the protective wards upon the castle needed to be sacrificed so Dumbledore could place wards around the edge of the village to protect those huddled there.

Remus stumbled in his sickened condition to the Shrieking Shack through the tunnel under the Whomping Willow, never in his wild dreams imagining he'd end up back in that horrible place to hide away from the rest of the world, this time for his own safety as well as others, especially at a time like this.

So filled with instinct to go help Harry fight was Lupin, that he clawed with his human hands against the slats across the window letting in the last of the light as the moon slowly began to rise. The wolfsbane was working and though his body did not contort as the first rays of moonlight struck across his pale thin features, he could feel his tendons cry out in protest as they tried to elongate against the effect of the Polyjuice Potion trying to force his bones and teeth to remain where they had been fifteen days ago. The pain intensified until the poor man heard a wolf like cry escape his lips as he cried out in pain, though when he looked to the mirror, sure of what he would see, his face remained intact. His mouth had been drawn into a rather thinner line under the strain of wanting to transform, but it held...for now.

Remus felt sure that under normal circumstances, the potions would have worked miracles, but in his severe distress to seek to help his friends in Hogsmeade, instincts, with their many hormone changes of flight or fight, were strong within his human and werewolf self. The human side wanted to share the burden and rescue his friends, but the werewolf in him lusted after the battle itself. He clamped his hands desperately over his mouth as he howled in wolf fashion against his will, taking a double dose of the Wolfsbane to be sure he would not regret this night.

Remus stared in horror as he saw the twins in the distance trying to make their way toward the Shrieking Shack and their store to use the tunnel back to Hogwarts, dragging two young boys along with them who wore expressions of abject terror.

The tunnel under Honeydukes had been breached so the twins tried to get the boys to safety via the one in the Shrieking Shack.

Remus's mind was made up for him as he saw no less than six masked figures approaching swiftly behind the boys unbeknownst to them, it seemed. He swallowed another dose of Polyjuice Potion and looked to the sky as if in prayer and left his hiding spot to face what he would.

Fred and George were holding their own, at least shield wise, but the added burden of two young children to protect was hampering the defensive strikes.

Remus was not an Auror, but under Mad Eye Moody and some of the finest Aurors around, he had been trained as one. Caught unaware, Remus was able to use a Broad Length Stunning Spell, sending all six masked figures spiralling to the ground. He then performed a charm whereby any enervating spell would not awaken them any time soon.

The twins turned around, wands drawn, pointed in the bushes where Lupin stood panting with the nausea from the potions. Sweat stood out heavily on his brow and the twins could see the shine on his forehead even from behind the bush.

Fearing attack still, Fred called out, "who's there. Show yourself or we'll toast you."

Remus stumbled out the bushes and was caught before he fell flat on his face by George. Fearing that he had been injured, the twins began looking for obvious sign of trauma.

Remus explained that he was not injured, but that he had no idea how dangerous he was at this point. He was still in his right mind, but he could smell fear even on the twins and it smelled delicious, disturbing him into telling the twins to get away from him right away and he would do his best to hold off attackers until they could get the young boys into the tunnel. The twins of course were not leaving. Their plans were to double back and join the fight to help Harry from the rear.

Fred and George agreed to a head start, far away from Lupin toward the Shrieking Shack, planning on giving the second year boys in their charge, directions back to Hogwarts through the tunnels and they themselves were going to return to battle.

Plans have a way of going awry and so these ones did. As Remus tried to go back to the Shrieking Shack, a large explosion sent clapboard from the old house flying for hundreds of feet in the air.

All that was left of the Shrieking Shack when Remus picked himself off the ground was a collapsed heap of rubble.

"Nooooooo!" howled Remus, sounding every bit more like the wolf he fought so desperately against. He still remained as a man, but his heart rate matched the wolf within him and he felt his feet fly as he took off toward the rubble, blasting bits away to find the tunnel to see if the twins had had time to make it inside before it most surely had collapsed in the explosion.

Angelina Johnson and Katie Belle had doubled back to the theatre when Fred and George had earlier seen how many Death Eaters were converging upon it, telling the girls that they would take the scared second years and whomever else they could save to the tunnels. The girls were accomplished DA members and could be relied on to provide help.

Angelina had seen with a sinking feeling, that people would not follow Fred and George but thought they could find shelter in nearby business and surrounding wooded areas. They were wrong. Already several villagers lay dead in the street, others wounded, trying to make their way to the edge of the woods on the outskirts of the village.

Angelina fought to keep the contents of her stomach down as they passed the gruesome sight, wands held in shaking hands. Harry had not exaggerated how horrible fresh battle was to even behold, let alone fight in it for yours and others very lives. The two girls watched in horror as several Death Eaters in masks dragged a limp Ginny Weasley from the stage exit door and out to an alley behind Honeydukes.

As Harry ran as fast as his legs would carry him toward the exit to follow the Death Eaters with their prize, he joined a frantic Hermione and Ron trying to blast the magically sealed doors open. With the concerted effort of all three, the door finally blew off it's hinges. As the smoke cleared, the three found they faced six more Death Eaters, intent on collecting Harry to witness Voldemort's displeasure with his girlfriend. Three against six was not a fair fight, even when teamed with the finest DA students, but math on the Death Eater's part, was not in their favour when Neville and Luna ran around to the back of the theatre, having exited through the front and as Angelina and Katie Belle fired curses from behind a marquee. All six Death Eaters fell with not a single curse from Harry, Ron nor Hermione.

"Harry, they took Ginny to a spot just behind Honeydukes!" Angelina cried frantically, already starting to head in that direction. Through swirling snow, four people were actually flying toward Harry and the group on brooms. It was all Harry could do not to curse them from where he stood before meeting them face on, but he stayed steady still heading in the direction of Honeydukes.

As it turned out, the four people on broomsticks in this weather, were students, and better yet, DA members. They had flown to the village as a challenge. It had started out as a high stakes bet to see who would make it to Hogsmeade without freezing or giving up in the horrible weather. Harry was glad he had followed the cardinal rule of not firing until one can see the whites of their eyes. Backup was most needed.

Dennis and Collin Creevey, Justin Finch Fletchly and Michael Corner, all hovered on their new Firebolts, a gift that now, each member of the DA possessed, courtesy of Neville Longbottom.

As leader of the DA, Harry need only ask Justin and Michael to give up their brooms to he and Ron to go after Ginny. Something Harry had heard Collin speak of about he and his brother being able to perform a version of the Imperius Curse, stuck in his mind, and he asked them with severe trepidation of their safety, if they would help him save Ginny.

All the members of the DA knew that they had not been just fooling around, they had been preparing for war, and this was it. Thoughts swirled in Harry's mind, like the fact that he would like to have sent one of the Creeveys back to the castle for safety, so their parents wouldn't lose the both of them, but somehow, they had only managed the Imperius Curse together. The brothers stoic demeanour reinforced Harry's will to get Ginny back. He knew he was only being bated, but he had to try.

Harry, Ron and the Creeveys touched gently down into the fluffy snow, and saw that three pairs of footprints led into Honeydukes where three Death Eaters seemed to be having fun with the patrons. Harry, knowing he was being selfish to try to save one person, no matter how special to him she was, couldn't leave the thirty or so patrons and staff of Honeydukes to the clutches of the Death Eaters, but by now, Hermione, Neville and Luna had caught up and were flanking the building from the right while Angelina and Katie Bell took the left.

Harry involuntarily closed his eyes as they crashed into the doors, firing at the Death Eaters as they ducked volleyed cursed from behind the counter which they had leapt over upon entering. With the distraction of new help, other DA members who had been trapped in the pub, perhaps not as long and well trained as those who had just entered, joined in the fray with new found courage in the face of their teachers, friends and instructors.

Hearing the ruckus from inside, caused the Death Eaters who were holding Ginny behind the establishment to look toward the windows to see what was happening inside. Michael Corner who had stayed outside to prevent further Death Eaters from entering through the front, had a Death Curse aimed right at him, and it was then that Harry knew what he had to do, though he wasn't sure if he would be charged in the end for doing an Unforgivable Curse.

"RETRACTO!" Harry yelled as time seemed to stand still. The jet of green light that had been aimed straight for Michael Corner, shifted in midair, spun directly around and hit the instigating Death Eater squarely in the chest, whereupon he fell to the ground dead. Michael stood gaping as Harry yelled for him to take cover, but his shouts fell on deaf ears, so shocked was he. When another Avada Kadavra curse was heard from a different direction that Harry could not distinguish with the howling, blowing snow that was now obscuring vision even at minimal distances, Michael Corner fell dead, surrounded in the green shroud that Harry knew all too well.

For a moment all else was lost of Harry's thoughts, and if not for an urgent call and feeling someone slam him bodily to the ground as another jet of green light flew over him, Harry would have stood frozen to the spot. The first member of the DA had been killed, and Harry felt that he had led the boy into his death by letting him join the DA...for being so pompous as to think he could make a difference...

Harry let out a battle cry and was about to rush headlong into a group of Death Eaters who had helped take Ginny from the theatre, but Ron held him fast to the spot, begging him to focus. Harry looked up into his best friend's face and saw fear and tears there to match his own, but Ron begged Harry to just breath for a moment before rejoining the fray. The Retracto Curse was very draining, and in the end, one of the DA members had died anyway.

Ron knew that Harry was not in top form for fighting and though Fred and George had sleep- taught him the Retracto Curse, they hadn't taken into consideration how taxing it was on a person, and Harry had actually done it twice. As the second blast of green light had shot from nowhere at Michael, Harry had tried to perform the Retraco Curse with a wide surround, hoping it would as least go astray, but he had failed.

The battle had just begun and Harry lay panting on the ground already battle fatigued. Dumbledore had hoped that Harry's body would have the rest of the school year to heal completely as Madam Pomfrey had told him that Harry still had a long way to go toward being a normal healthy teenager. Battles will not wait for those who are not ready, it is the best time to strike while they are down.

A/N see, I told you, the final battle has begun. With a flick of my wand it went from Christmas to March, which as we see has come in like a lamb... Please review as this story is coming to a close and I love to hear from you. Keeping in mine this was written long before HBP came out, I'm pretty happy with my werewolf stuff. I just knew there would be more of that stuff in canon! When I'm finished posting this one, which will be soon, my seventh year fic will come out and it is post HBP. Please check out my challenge for Dark Autumn as well if you get a chance, it's called 'Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titilandus.' Thanks for all the feedback! You guys rock!


	54. Bittersweet Revenge

It took Remus an hour to reach the tunnel leading from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts under the Shrieking Shack's ruined structure. He could only hope that Fred, George and the second years with them, had made it far enough into the tunnel to escape the destruction of the Shrieking Shack. Lupin had not taken his combination of Wolfsbane and Polyjuice Potion, for it too had been blown up in the wreckage. He looked up to the night sky filled with blowing, howling snow and debris of clapboard and ashes, but then a horrible orange blast tore through the night sky with a sound like thunder; but no, this was not a storm. Even from this distance, Remus saw with anguish to his very soul, which he was fast losing to his wolf instinct, a turret from the beloved school ripped from its very foundation. Hogwarts was under attack and most of the students were already under siege in Hogsmeade.

Remus steeled himself to the task at hand, trying to block out the horrid hissing sound as the burning turret met the icy snow on the ground, making a fog to rival mother nature as it fizzled into embers still glowing orange. Remus tried to look away from his vantage point, staring through the slats that showed the devastation. It was the North Tower turret. Professor Trelawny was most likely dead, as she rarely left the Divination Tower.

Lupin felt his fingers elongate and it hurt, but not as much as his heart. He kept his mind human as much as possible, but his body was losing the battle against the transformation. His nose elongated as he arched his back to sniff the night sky. The smell of acrid smoke met his nose first, then fear, cold fear... a smell he longed for until he brushed the wolf away, trying to use only the strengthened body while not letting the mind set of the wolf take over at the same time. Where there was fear, there was life. Whomever was buried under this pile of rubble, was still alive. Delicious fear... 'no, keep your mind...these are Arthur and Molly's children...your friend's children,' Remus kept reminding himself, horribly afraid of his instincts and what he may become. As he clawed through the heavy rubble, he heard voices. Three voices, though he could now smell four different sets of scent.

The whimper of an anguished wolf was all Fred could hear as he held his arms protectively around the two second year students and stood in front of his fallen brother, wand raised. Remus, though mostly in his right mind, felt the excitement of the growing fear and anticipation from below. The four boys had only just gotten into the mouth of the tunnel when the Shrieking Shack had fallen in literally on top of them. George had held up the falling rubble while Fred had grabbed the two boys back, but as he made to run toward them, the rubble had landed on him. George had blasted the rubble from off Fred, but as he grabbed him to draw him further into the collapsing tunnel, he could feel the squelching sound in George's chest. His ribs were broken and his breathing almost non existent. Fred had performed an enervating charm on Fred several times already when his chest had stopped rising up and down.

George knew that a werewolf would kill his best friend, not knowing him at all when the wolf took over and with no means of talking to the professor to see how intact his own personality was, he raised his wand to strike if necessary when the wolf's large jaw burst through, grabbing the last large pillar that stood between them and freedom, or them and certain death at the hands of the werewolf. George would have took them all back to the school had the tunnel not been so damaged. He warned the boys that they would have to run for it when he blasted the wolf, so he would be able to levitate his brother from the tunnel to try to get him help.

There would be no making it back to the school. George took a deep breath when the two boys, who were themselves only slightly injured, took off in a run toward the vault in he and Fred's satelite store. George had ordered them to lock themselves in and use a Bubblehead Charm that he hoped they had been able to learn in the hour he had spent teaching it to them. He had ordered them not to open it to any but someone they definitely knew and trusted. He did not want to hurt Lupin, just to make it to levitate Fred to the vault. George had never seriously cursed a friend before, and he felt loathe to do it, but he reminded himself that Lupin had already almost killed his best friend Sirius and had nearly attacked Harry, Ron and Hermione three years ago.

The wolf whimpered, cocking its great ugly head to the side upon the sight that met his eyes. One of the poor boys lay unmoving on the ground. He smelled blood, though it had not come out of the body he was sniffing at; the werewolf knew that it was not now flowing only in his veins. The boy was bleeding internally very badly.

"P...Professor Lupin?" George breathed, holding his wand trained on the wolf before him. He sighed in deepest relief when the wolf nodded his great shaggy head, though George jumped out of his skin when the beast leapt lightly into the tunnel. Relief is sometimes a good thing, as George could now feel that his ankle had been broken and his right shoulder hung at an odd angle. He had used his own body to shield the younger students from falling debris. Still, he stumbled forward to help his brother.

George didn't want to move Fred much, so he levitated him up out of the tunnel, but just as he was doing so, he lost his footing and fell, the Levitation Charm breaking. Lupin, who was on all fours at the top of the hole, grabbed the boy around the back of his shirt collar, causing what little air remaining in Fred's lungs to gush out in a hiss as the wolf placed him gently back on the ground, nudging frantically at the prone boy, desperately wanting his hands back so he could help him if he could. George had regained his footing and had Apparated out of the hole. He knelt near his brother, head on his chest.

"Fred...Fred, come on, stay with me...come on," begged George frantically, the rest of the explosions momentarily blocked from his reality. Fred gave a shuddering gasp as he started to breath again. "Remus, you have to watch him...please, I'll be right back," George pleaded, hating to leave Fred with a person who was as unstable as Lupin was under his illness. He took off toward their shop with a clear idea in his mind, not knowing if any of it would work.

When George returned, Lupin once again, now laying next to Fred to keep him warm and from going into shock if he wasn't already, whimpered miserably. Among items sold at Weezies Wizarding Weezees, was a product called 'Real Mask,' which a person could take to change only their face to resemble a famous witch or wizard. Some celebrities such as the Weird Sisters had sold hair clippings or finger or toe nails to the twins at an incredibly high rate, and others, the twins had simply nicked from hairdressers and dustbins and such. The potion needed a piece of whoever one wanted to wear the face of. Stealing the items had been a dirty job, but the Weasley twins had been more than up to it. The other main ingredient was Polyjuice Potion in tiny portions, just enough to transform the face, but not the body. Now however, George held in his hand a full dose of the raw ingredient Polyjuice Potion. He quickly took out a few of his own hairs and added it to the raw Polyjuice Potion. He then tilted Fred up into his arms and poured the entire contents of the cup into the dying boys mouth. He clamped his hand over Fred's mouth, even against his wretching. It was the last dose of Polyjuice in the store, so he could ill afford to have Fred throw it up.

Fred began to heave violently, which was not just a reaction to the Polyjuice, but within minutes, he settled unconscious, but breathing normally into George's enveloped arms. Fred opened his eyes a moment later, dazed, but drawing a full breath. He and his brother were identical to everyone else, almost even to their own mother, but Fred could feel the very subtle difference and hear the ever so subtle voice inflections from the slightly different shape of the inside of his mouth. George would have been the only person to be able to see that Fred had actually taken on his looks. Fred was not healed by a long shot, but his body had bent into that of his brothers, buying him some time to seek help...one hour to be exact. He had one hour to live.

"Can you move?" George asked anxiously.

"Yeah. What happened?" Fred asked, getting stiffly to his feet, feeling lightheaded from blood loss that the Polyjuice Potion could not replenish. His bones had twisted into his brothers shape, but Fred was still weak and could feel that something inside him was not right. Lupin had been able to use his wand to crudely conjure bandages for George's ankle and a sling for his shoulder. Fred could not be deterred from going back to Hogsmeade to help, though George had begged Fred to go lie down in the vault in their store but Fred could not leave his younger siblings and Harry alone to fight the Death Eaters, so together, they made for the village, George carrying with him a large assortment of supplies from the shop and the very unlikely companion of a werewolf with some human intellect left.

"We'll see what we can do, but after a half hour, I'm getting you help," George vowed. "And I'm not sure how long we can trust that Lupin will be able to hold onto his mind," he whispered once Lupin's four pawed strides outmatched theirs and he was out of earshot.

Harry and Ron once again mounted their brooms and rejoined Dennis and Collin Creevy ,also on brooms. Hermione, Neville and Luna were still now holed up in Honeydukes, though now it was free of invaders and people were now placing protective wards around it to be used as a strong hold. Hermione was shouting instructions, glad for the hundredth time that she had read, "Hogwarts, A History," where she had learned certain protective charms. In all, there were fourteen DA members in Honeydukes and every one of them knew that they must split up and try to help elsewhere.

Luna and Neville were covered by Hermione and Angelina as they ran toward the Post Office to help people there. Katie Belle and Justin Finch- Fletchley were dispatched to Zonkos Joke Shop, which although its business had greatly diminished when Fred and George had started their own shop, still enjoyed a certain amount of good business.

As Fred and George made their way up the main street, they saw the hunched figures of Justin Finch Fletchley and Katie Belle blanching in horrified fascination as the front of Zonko's Joke Shop exploded, sending shards of glass outward toward them. Katie Belle had her hands over her face, screaming as she had felt the glass shards enter her eyes and exposed skin on her face. Justin grabbed her and half led, half dragged the girl around a corner to a spot where snow had been piled up by the driverless snow plows that continued to plow up and down the cobbled paths with no idea of the melee that had now ensued. Justin grabbed a handful of snow and held it to Angelina's forehead, trying to stem the flow of blood and swelling that had already begun.

Two Death Eaters approached the injured girl and the protective Hufflepuff. Angelina could not see, but she had heard Justin curse out at the sight. She heard Justin shout "Rigormortus!" and had heard the thud as one of the two approaching Death Eaters fell heavily to the snow. This was an advanced curse, one that was more powerful than Petrificus Totalus. Under this heavy handed, but not Unforgivable Curse that Harry had taught over the last few months, a person did not get up without severe medical intervention. The Death Eaters partner had tried to enervate him, but let out a haughty air of deep disgust for his weakness and continued on toward Angelina and Justin unphased.

Justin once again tried the Rigormortus Curse, but this time a high pitched female voice merely laughed and hissed. "Too bad girl, that you are blind, so you won't get to witness your foolish little friend die," and with that, as Justin aimed his wand once more upon the powerful Death Eater, she raised her own wand, and killed Justin where he stood. The poor boy was dead before he hit the ground, as Angelina, screaming into the night, groped with her hands through the freezing snow and ice to find her fallen comrade. The DA had now lost two of its members, and she knew she was next. She knew Justin was dead, for even in her blindess, the green light had permeated her perception.

As the Death Eater, who was Bellatrix Lestrange out avenging her husband's death saw that she was outnumbered when the Weasley twins and a werewolf walked into view through the swirling snow storm, she Apparated away. She did not want to miss her master torturing the Potter boy as he toyed with his love, his life, Ginny Weasley. She has lost her beloved Rudolphus, her husband, who had provided her comfort all the years they had spent in Azkaban together for serving the Dark Lord. Seeing someone else suffer so cruelly a loss, would heal her vicious wounded heart. Her venom was stronger now than she had ever felt possible. She Aparated away, feeling at least somewhat mollified that she had caused pain and death on the side of the Light.

Aurors had been sent from the burning school to get to Harry Potter as quickly as possible, though they were needed at the school as well. Dumbledore had ordered the five members of the old Clover House to take all students remaining at the school to the ruins of Clover House Tower whereupon he restored the magic that had shrouded the old dorms in secrecy for the past five hundred years. Dumbledore had given one of the five hundred year old students, Prudence Clearwater the spell to free themselves from the strong Concealment Charm when it was safe to do so and bid she and others ordered into hiding to protect the younger students. She hugged the old man warmly, wishing him well, knowing that he was leaving the school to go to the village to fight alongside his students and Harry in particular. As the door closed to the old Clover House Tower, everyone inside wondered when the time came for them to emerge, if the war would be over, or if the world as they had come to know it all over again, would be lost and changed forever.

Tonks cried out in dismay, seeing Remus in werewolf form as George kept glancing nervously at his watch. Fred had exactly forty five minutes left in the form of his brother until he would return to his own battered body. They still had to search Zonkos for survivors. Tonks crept into the darkness of Zonkos, which was usually so alive with the sounds of happy students. Sobbing could be heard from the back room as Old man Zonks lay cradled in his son's arms. Tom Zonko stated that his father had taken the brunt of the blast and lay near death. As Tonks was about to check him over, having some medical training, the door to the shop opened once more and this time, it was not help.

Every person assembled was now in a life and death fray. Bellatrix had come back.

"Hello, Nymphdora, dear cousin. Fancy you'd like to see our dear cousin Sirius again?" she mocked. "I could arrange it for you, you know?"

Tonk's eyes flashed dangerously. This had become more personal now that she had witnessed Bellatrix kill their cousin Sirius, plunging Harry into more darkness than he had ever known. Tonks levelled her wand at her more powerful cousin Bellatrix and blasted her with a floo curse. Green flames licked the once vivacious body of Bellatrix Lestrange and she screamed in agony, but only for a half a minute. She morphed back into her usual state with ease, like it had never happened and now levelled her own wand back at Tonks. Fred and George knew this would be ugly and they already had Angelina, old Zonko and his son to get out of the way of the dangerous fight that would no doubt bring the shop down.

Tonks stood in a defensive pose, like a sword fight as she rocked the ground right out from Bellatrix as the last person was clear of the shop. The floor melted right from under Bellatrix and she screamed in fury as she fought to keep hold of her wand as Tonks used Expelliarmus to try to take it away. The difference in strength between these cousins was that Nymphdora would not use an Unforgivable, but Bellatrix was well versed in all aspects of Dark Magic, having been trained by Voldemort himself. Tonks succeeded in getting Bellatrix's wand as Bellatrix tried to taunt the young Auror into using an Unforgivable, which she would not do.

"I see you have a new boyfriend, Nymphadora. Do you have to morph into an ugly werewolf to be with him? Ugly children you would have. Oh wait, you can't have any children with a werewolf...that was your dream one day, was it not?"

"Shut up!" Tonks screamed as she saw an anguished look cross Lupin's face even in werewolf form. She did not want him to know this. "Shut UP!" she yelled again as Bellatrix bathed in her cousins anger and resentment. "Shut up, and don't call me Nymphadora!" Tonks yelled as fury overtook her once more, thinking of what Bellatrix had once said about the Black line being at an end now that the little puppy Sirius had finally been killed. The roof began to cave with Bellatrix still caught in the floor without her wand. Tonks fled the shop.

Miraculously, Bellatrix Apparated without benefit of wand and hovered for a few moments above the shop, everyone's wand trained on her. "I believe I'll have that back my love," she said lazily as her wand flew easily out of Tonks death grip on it.

Old man Zonko had only now just opened his eyes to see the evil witch who had destroyed his livelihood and that of his sons. With his last dying breath, he uttered, "Incantatum," toward his shop and every firework in the place went up at once, sending the most beautiful, disturbing, brilliant lights skyward and with a smoky pop, Bellatrix was gone. No one had seen her die or Apparate, but for now, she was gone, giving them time to try to help Harry. This group had no idea that Ginny had been taken and now was in the clutches of Voldemort himself.

Zonko's son Tom, was reluctant to leave his father's body, but they implored him to leave. His father would have wanted it that way, for him to reach safety. Zonko had died a hero. Bellatrix had been merely having fun with her cousin. She would have defeated them all had it not been for him blowing up the remains of his beloved shop.

For a moment, students and Death Eaters alike, stopped and looked up into the images of dragons and flowers that showered through the snowy night. Harry was so numb, his senses could detect little. He took the momentary absence of thought on the part of the Death Eaters to perform a Salt Pillar Curse on them. He didn't think about it, it wasn't an Unforgivable Curse, even though when performed in the presence of precipitation, it would cause those under it's effects to melt away, never to return. Six Death Eaters stood, already melting onto the ground like grotesque statues as the snow touched their bodies, dissolving them for ever more.

Voldemort had hoped for more backup when Potter would arrive, but he had only four Death Eaters there with he and Ginny now. His most loyal Wormtail, Lucius Malfoy and yes, Bellatrix Lestrange, who had conjured black mourning robes for frivolity and taunting purposes. The fourth Death Eater, was a bit shorter than the rest and Harry, peaking around a corner of the shop toward the woods where stood the Dark Lord and his followers, could see his chest heaving heavily under his robes...his Slytherin robes! Draco Malfoy had finally joined his father, and Lucius couldn't be more proud.

Neville's eyes bored into Bellatrix Lestrange so that though she could not see him, she could almost feel them, and for once, she felt nervous. Almost every member of the DA and every Auror had converged on the spot where Voldemort held a now petrified Ginny by the arm, awake and alert and pleading with Draco to find his decency that Dumbledore had tried to teach him and help her escape. She saw the boys feet shuffle nervously, but he said nothing as his father tightened his hands on the young Slytherin's shoulders until his fingernails bit into his skin. Lucius would not be made fool of today by his son, who had twice backed out of orders given by the pledge member of the Death Eaters.

When Dumbledore entered their sight, shrouded in a protective white light, Draco blanched visibly, but then had he not also felt a shudder sweep through everyone there, including the Dark Lord? Ginny took a second of comfort looking into the almost blinding white light.

"Tom, let the girl go. Your fight is not with her," Dumbledore coaxed. Lucius screamed in frustration as his only son, ripped from his grasp, and fled off into the night, not stopping to help Ginny, but leaving him utterly. He would pay. Lucius aimed his wand upon his only son as he ran away. Draco could hear his blood beating through his veins. He did not honestly know if he was running away from Voldemort or from Dumbledore, but he was errant in thinking of either of these two worrying much over him for now, the real threat coming from his own flesh and blood.

Harry didn't know why he had done it. Many were the times he could have felt like killing Draco with his own hands, yet he spent the last of his energy doing the Retracto Curse on Lucius Malfoy. He watched in horrified fascination as Lucius was enveloped in green light from his own wand and fell where he stood right next to Bellatrix. Something had finally unnerved the evil witch. She stood, eyes wide open, wand out, pointing into all directions she knew not who was there. Only Voldemort knew that Dumbledore had not performed the Retraco Curse and he turned his darkened eyes upon Harry in speculation. Perhaps the boy would be a more worthy adversary than he'd anticipated.

Harry had fallen to the ground after his last curse had been unleashed. Dumbledore calmly acted like there was all the time in the world. He said almost casually to George, "Mr Weasley, I believe time grows thin, and the twins were Apparated away somehow with Angelina to the candle lit area in the outskirts of the town where Madam Pomfrey was desperately attending to the wounded.

Mad Eye Moody kept walking in circles around the small encampment where fires had been lit to warm the sick and wounded. His wand was at the ready and his magical eye was roving in all directions. Fred had fifteen minutes before the protection of his brother's body would leave him to die. George had not told him just how bad his injuries were.

Madam Pomfrey was closing a bleeding stump of an arm on Hannah Abbot as Fred nearly threw up at the sight, but as twenty Death Eaters converged on the site to finish off the wounded, Mad Eye Moody used almost all of his strength to put a Befuddlement Charm on the group. There was mere minutes to come up with a plan. The twins, with no hope for Fred to see Madam Pomfrey in time to save him from his wounds, ran in as a distraction to the Death Eaters as the rest of the camp remained Disillusioned and out of the sight of the Death Eaters.

The sight of Hannah's bleeding stump had given George an idea, as his heart sank to see who it was that had been attacking the group of defenceless wounded. Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle had been among them. Fellow students. They were going to have to attack fellow students. The explosions that rocked the school had unleashed those that were being held prisoner for their crimes in the dungeons in the basement.

Fred was beginning to feel himself gradually start to transform back into his wounded body, but he kept going, trying to lead the group of attacking former students as far away from the wounded as possible. George was limping but he kept up with trying to lure the attackers into the woods. Hermione and Ron crept quietly, having been told by Dumbledore to head in this direction to help the wounded. Twenty to four was not good odds.

George jumped as a hand came seemingly out of no where to clamp his mouth. It was Professor Snape, under Harry's invisibility cloak that he had once again taken liberty of. Now there were five people to try to stop the attack on the encampment of wounded; at least everyone hoped he had shown up to do.

"Do not blow my cover, Weasley, it will be a miracle if I don't do that on my own," the Potions Master said nervously. When George told him of his plans, he was grateful for a powerful wizard like Snape to bring up the rear. The group stopped to prepare themselves for the onslaught.

Now it was time to make use of the products from the twin's shop that they had brought with them. The four DA members lie as though dead, headless hats covering vital body parts, making them look like they were blown off. Black Raspberry filling from some of the canary creams was splashed across the edges of the headless hats to make the effect more convincing. The four lay there, hardly breathing, and for Fred, this was not hard as drawing breath was becoming more painful by the moment and he could feel George's subtle feature differences leaving him slowly and his jaw set in grim determination.

Snape crept into the wood behind the 'fallen' students, well away from the real wounded. Crabbe had found them first. He laughed, calling the rest of the nasty Slytherins and Ravenclaw girls, Marietta and Cho Chang.

"Oh, finally, we got a mudblood!" Pansy shrieked. Maybe now Draco will come around. He's always wanted Granger gone," she hoped. The other, obviously adult Death Eaters had continued on, not as fascinated by death as they had been when they were these kids age. They thought they'd let the children have their fun, remembering their first taste of the glory of war with relish, knowing that these fine young Death Eaters would have something to celebrate tonight with the new era of rule under the Dark Lord, having been on the right side. They celebrated prematurely. As the young ones gloated over the 'dead bodies," Snape plowed out of the woods, curses flying in every direction.

Snape wore the invisiblity cloak, but still curses flew toward him. Caught off guard by the 'dead bodies,' getting up to fight, fully intact, it wasn't long before the Death Eaters were subdued. Hearing the battle though, caused the other fifteen Death Eaters to join the fray. Shocked at seeing the 'dead people' walking, they too were momentarily caught unaware. Snape,it appeared, was more powerful than the rest, just as Bellatrix had proven to be, but as the twins, Ron and Hermione were finishing off the last of them, poor Fred finally succumbed to his renewed injuries as the last of the Polyjuice ran out of his system. He fell into Snape, dragging the Invisibility Cloak off of him as he fell to the ground. One Death Eater ran away from the twenty, and Snape did not know if the man, Anton Dolohov? Had seen him or not, to report his infidelity to Voldemort. Snape swore into the woods, eyes glassed over, sending spell after spell at the man as Hermione and Ron ran off to try to to stop him. Snape had to be the one to stay with Fred and George as he now, unbeknownst to them, had learned some basic medicine, having been affected deeply by not knowing how to help Harry on that fateful day last summer. Would Ron and Hermione let him down? The man who had seen Snape fight on the Light Side, must not live.

Voldemort did not like his position. No matter how powerful, two was not a fair fight against all the DA he could now feel in the woods around him, not to mention Aurors and the only man he had ever feared, Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort aimed a curse at Harry, knocking him off his broom. Neville and Luna had grabbed onto him as he shuddered helplessly as Bellatrix approached. Dumbledore stood singularly for a moment battling over thirty Death Eaters whom Voldemort had just summoned to his side, until the rest of the DA members showed themselves from the woods, falling in as great a number as the Death Eaters, dead or wounded.

Bellatrix walked up toward's Neville, who had remounted a vacant broom to try to draw her away from Harry. He knew with a sick sense of fear that she had special interest in him from the way she had acted in the Ministry of Magic last year. She had been the one to torture his parents into incapacitation for the last fifteen years and she had put the Cruciatus Curse on him as well last year before she had killed Harry's Godfather. She was an orphan maker, a life sucker and Neville felt he could have done an Unforgivable Curse and meant it easily now, but as he looked toward Dumbledore, he knew he would try not to. That didn't mean that she who deserved to die, would not die, just in a different way.

Bellatrix was in no hurry to kill Neville. She took more pleasure in torture. She had heard that the Longbottoms were receiving ground breaking treatment for the brain injuries she had caused them by keeping them under the Cruciatus Curse for so long that they went mad. She would take great pleasure in sending them their only son in a box, or better yet, in as bad a shape as they had been, just as they would have started to get to know him for the first time.

Bellatrix took to taunting Neville in the same baby voice she loved to use on Harry. "Does ittle Longbottom, and I can see why your family wears that name so well..." she said belittling the boy further, 'want to play with me...like his dada and mama did fifteen years ago?'

Before she could even raise her wand to strike, Neville sped as fast as his created Firebolt could go in long circles around the witch, who watched him like a cat would watch a mouse get away, but Neville was not trying to get away. He blasted the smooth tip of the broom off into a splintered jagged spear and Bellatrix laughed, thinking the boy had mis-aimed a curse. Her eyes widened in disbelieving horror as, before she could even raise her wand, Neville's Firebolt had speared her through the chest. He had dove off at the last moment, landing in an undignified heap on the ground by Luna and Harry.

Bellatrix looked from Neville to the splintered broom that was impaled in her torso. Blood ran from the corners of Bellatrix's mouth, but still she laughed and for one horrible moment, Neville feared she was immortal, the stuff of nightmares even more than he had dreamed of her. She did not get up, but she, with her last venomous breath, sought to kill Neville. Luna stood up and shouted, "Expelliarmus and Bellatrix's wand flew from her failing grasp.

"I happen to think Neville had a wonderful gluteous maximus!" Luna said indignantly, as though Neville had merely been insulted by a salesclerk trying to sell him a pair of jeans. "Die quietly," Luna said as she put the Quietus Charm on the dying witch, and Neville watched as the person who had stolen his childhood did just that.

Hearing Voldemort himself cry out in anguish was something Harry had never thought he would hear as long as he lived, but at the sight of Bellatrix's dead body, he did just that, and at that moment, Harry lifted his head as the Dark Lord stared with fury at the three of them on the ground. Voldemort grabbed Ginny tightly, pinching her windpipe with unseen means and Apparated away, screaming in fury. Harry stood on shaky legs, supported by Neville and Luna and they suddenly felt themselves being tugged behind the navel, just like with a Portkey.

"Ginny!" The words had barely left Harry's mouth as the momentum of their unexpected ride came to an end, and he knew that this time, the end of this fight would be worse than the Triwizard Tournament had been.

A/N HI! Okay, sorry about the two week delay! I have been caring for a very injured kitten that was found on the road in the rain. I am happy to report that my older cat, Charcoal, has become an adoptive father to the poor little thing. He makes sure the kitten eats and he cleans him and sleeps with him to keep him warm. Also, I have sprained my ankle in a spectacularly dorky way and have been on and off it for this past two weeks as well. Promise to keep up for the last three chapters though and I'd love to hear from you to see what you think! Thanks, you guys are the best!


	55. Words To Die Upon The Lips

Hermione and Ron ran after Dolohov, following the quickly filling in footprints in the snow leading to the frozen lake around Hogwarts. Snape would be killed if Dolohov was allowed to convey that he had seen the Potions Master fight against his own kind. They forced themselves to keep on track, though now the castle itself was in full view and the damage was visible even in the storm from this distance. They froze for a second as Dolohov, who was clearly intent on reaching Voldemort, saw what he was looking for. Fifty death eaters were circled around two central figures, one a small girl, Ron's sister, and one, the Dark Lord. They could see his red eyes, like eery beakons for his followers. Dolohov would not make his mark, for as he stepped onto the frozen lake, Hermione raised her wand and cracked the ice, which swallowed him up before he could make a move and closed up around him as if it had not happened. They stood there breathing very hard, wondering if anyone had seen them, but so intent were the onlookers at their master and his prey that they did not notice one of their own go down to his death at the bottom of the lake. Snape's secret would die on Dolohov's lips.

Snape caught up to the crouching figures of Hermione and Ron, who were trying desperately to find out what to do next. There were so many Death Eaters. "Did you do it...properly?" Snape asked with obvious purpose, hope that he had not been found out so clearly evident in his voice.

"Yes," Hermione told him, with regret for having taken the life of another human being. Snape did not indicate his pleasure with this. Just when the situation could grow no worse, it did. They didn't even know if Harry still lived, though they suspected he had as Ginny was still alive and Voldemort so loved his games of torture. With a crack, Harry, Luna and Neville landed roughly on the ice surface in the middle of the circle of Death Eaters.

"Oh!" Hermione cried, not being able to help herself as Snape placed his hand over her mouth and quickly withdrew it to clutch at this own forearm as it burned in summons. Snape stood to leave them.

"Professor," Hermione choked, "You will try to save them, won't you?" Hermione sobbed. Snape did not reply.

"Did you help Fred?" Ron asked as Snape walked out onto the ice, not looking back. He looked like he was going to a funeral. Ron held Hermione tightly, wishing he could do something and knowing before the end, he would, no matter what the outcome. The time to fulfill their pledge had come.

As Snape arrived, he stiffened as Voldemort embraced him back into the fold. "Severus, there is bad tidings. Our dear friend Lucius is dead and the one I promised to you, Bellatrix has also perished, but take heart my friend, I will find you another to be yours when I take my kingdom and you sit at my right hand."

Voldemort seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He had brought a great army and had struck when the school was divided. He and Snape performed some hand gestures of remembrance for their fallen partners and subjects, which looked oddly religious, and they were than mimicked by the entire company.

"Potter! Show your respect!" Voldemort shouted as he put Harry, too weak from the battle to throw off the Imperious Curse into the position of standing against his will, performing the same respectful gestures for Malfoy and Bellatrix they had just watched the Dark Lord and Snape perform. Snape smiled coldly at him and sought to add to his discomfort. Snape followed suit and tried to make Neville and Luna also show their respect for the dead. Neville immediately affected by the Imperius Curse, stood and performed the same way Harry had, but Luna merely looked insolently at the Potions Master. Voldemort found Luna amusing as she explained while he waited too patiently.

"I respect the dead, even those who died on the wrong side of the Light, in Darkness from which there is no return or peace," Luna explained as though giving Voldemort a lesson in religion. Voldemort couldn't seem to be bothered with Luna for now. She had that effect on people. Snape looked at the girl incredulously. Luna and Neville grabbed hold of Harry as he tried to fling his body upon the Dark Lord in an attempted attack in retaliation for what came from the snake- like mouth next.

"Perhaps, Severus we could keep this one for you until she is of age, after all, Bella was a bit past her prime was she not?" Voldemort asked, with no hint of loss in his voice now.

Hermione and Ron could now hear every word the Dark Lord and his followers said as Hermione had used a charm to eavesdrop. Hermione wondered what Bellatrix would have thought of this callous disregard for her years of service to the Dark Lord. Bellatrix had thought she was special to the Dark Lord, a most loyal servant...now he talked about her as though she was the dirt beneath his reptilian body. He had thrust Ginny into Snape's arms for inspection. Snape faltered for a moment in revulsion, quickly claiming that he had been injured killing the Weasley boy and pretending that Ginny had merely touched the wounds.

Severus Snape put his clammy on Harry's girlfriend's shoulders while he still had his wand. Snape spoke disgusting things about her like, 'no, I've never much cared for redheads, you know that Lord, I ask with respect to choose among the survivors a suitable mate.'

Snape was loathe to speak these things and even embarrassed in front of his students, but the situation dictated his absolute staunch support of the Dark Lord. As Snape talked with amusement to Voldemort and the other Death Eaters looked on, hoping to one day be as close an ally, Snape desperately tapped out a coded message to Ginny on her shoulder, hoping, but doubtful that she would catch what he was trying so desperately to tell her. There was more to Ginny than met the eye, but Snape had known as much since she had broke the connection between Harry and Voldemort. When the tapping did not work, and Voldemort had turned to give a speech to his loyal servants before ushering in the new era of terror under his domain, Snape used a very risky way to reach Ginny, Legilimancy.

Snape felt the girls knees buckle as he invaded her mind and he lashed out verbally at her for the benefit of the audience, while hoping he could reach her inner mind, past what her ears heard. With all the tact he could muster, which was none, he spat, "Stupid, girl, keep a placid face and listen to me if you want to live..."

Voldemort had long since taken Harry's wand, made a hole in the ice about the size of an ice fishing hole and sunk his wand into it, freezing it back over with ease. He did not know that Harry no longer had need of his wand for everything, but against the Dark Lord, to be without it, would be certain death.

Harry stared in horror as his girlfriend, obviously placed under the Imperious Curse to amuse Voldemort, a gift no doubt from Snape, moved toward Voldemort, kneeling before him and kissing his robes.

"NO!" Harry screamed as Neville and Luna struggled to hold him back. Ginny steeled herself against his agonized screams for her to stop. She was trying to buy Harry time to recuperate from the Retracto Curses he had used, time to steel himself for the ultimate fight with Voldemort and as she did so, the prophecy rang in her ears as the bitter taste of Voldemort's putrid flesh of his hand came into contact with her lips with her kiss. Neville begged Harry to stay still, hoping for help to come from some miraculous force, but he knew, that no matter what help arrived, it would not be enough.

Snape plunged into Harry's mind, knocking him off his feet, and the Dark Lord, taking this as a fainting spell from the shock of seeing Ginny's allegiance to him, caused the Dark Lord to laugh hideously, enjoying watching his so called saviour change her colours when in danger of suffering in her own skin.

"Potter, the headmaster is on his way with thirty five Aurors and members of your little club. We need a few more minutes before they arrive. You need to buy us some time. This little act of hers will last only for so long before he tires of it. He'd much rather see you grovel. Pity Hogwarts doesn't give acting lessons, but you must rise to the occasion," Snape ordered him.

Harry looked up at Snape venomously. He had been prepared to plead for Ginny's life, but he knew that grovelling meant nothing to the Dark Lord. He had grovelled before, and he had been brave before. Nothing would work and Snape knew it, so suddenly Harry did something very foolish, something Ginny was not privy to. Harry choked on his words like they were poison as the laughter of the Death Eaters, including Snape's rang in his ears.

"So this is how you repay me for saving you from him in the chamber of secrets? By grovelling for mercy at his feet, kissing his robes..." Harry's words were poison to her ears as well, and for a split moment that seemed like the end of the world, she thought he was serious, until he looked up and their eyes met. She knew his words were not his own for now and she let them roll off her like a wave on a turbulent sea. It was the only way she could go on. Harry's voice rose, and though his words meant nothing, she prayed that they would not be the last ones he had on his lips for her at the same time as he prayed that these would not be the last things he said to her.

Voldemort had grown tired of the new little pet he saw in Ginny, but he found Harry's pain at her betrayal delicious. It was more than he could have hoped for. Killing her as his loyal love was not nearly as appetizing as seeing Harry's heart break right before his very eyes. The boy was actually giving up! There was to be no fight. He was ready to give up. Losing people to death it seemed, was easier for the boy who lived, than seeing someone he believed loved him, turn on him at the mere threat of death. This boy believed the garbage Dumbledore had spat out about death being just another adventure, another journey to take, Voldemort thought with a satisfied smile. Now, the boy who lived, would die, and he would take this ultimate betrayal to his grave.

Harry did not have to act out the tears. They flowed unchecked down his cheeks, though in his mind, he could hear his Ginny telling him that they would get out of this. He found it hard to speak out loud harshly against her, while in his mind, she had tenderly broken into his mind, and it was this that troubled him as much as being here. He wanted to tell her the same thing, but the only thing he cared about was that she got away safely. He could fight better knowing she was far away from the evil that stood before her.

Ginny had turned back to the Dark Lord, lest her eyes betray her as the first tears she had shed throughout this ordeal slid down her cheeks and tasted bitter on her lips parched by the harsh winds.

Voldemort wanted to show Harry as weak once and for all, and Snape blanched as the Dark Lord sent Harry's outer cloaks flying in the wind, leaving him shirtless in the blasting storm of the April Fool's Day storm. When Neville tried to throw his own cloak over Harry, Voldemort put him under the Cruciatus Curse and sent him sprawling across the ice on his back screaming. Anyone would have been frozen immediately, but Harry, still thin from his injuries and recovery, succumbed more quickly than most. It was as they had feared. Voldemort had struck while Harry was still too weak to put up a fair fight.

Snape was risking it all when Harry found himself thrown roughly onto his back by the Potions Master, who glowered inches from his face as he lay on the ice shivering violently, teeth clanking together so hard, he thought they would break. Ginny used every ounce of control she had not to run to him, be damned what would happen next. Perhaps they could die together. For a time, it seemed about the best possible outcome. Snape looked like he was going to strangle Harry as Neville's piercing screams flowed across the lake to the ears of the rapidly approaching opposition.

"Potter, swallow this," Harry heard through his mind. He did as he was told as some liquid ran from the sleeve of Snape's billowing sleeves as he shouted at him, "How dare you deprive my Lord of his due respect. Get up, insolent boy!" and he jerked Harry to his feet, where he swayed, before feeling warmth flow back into his extremities that had turned numb long ago before Voldemort had deprived him of his robes and shirt. He knew he had to keep shivering to protect Snape from becoming suspect to the Dark Lord. Snape had slipped him a Warming Potion.

"Now Severus," Voldemort soothed. "In time, Harry will plead for his death, the ultimate show of deference to me. I expect no less, but I do not need you to do my bidding, unless I ask it of you. Am I making myself clear?"

"Abundantly so, my Lord. I am sorry, but I feel I must confess to you that this boy has caused me so much trouble through the years that I have a yearning to hurt him myself. I will contain myself, my Lord," Snape apologized, bowing reverently.

"In due time Severus, you may have some fun, before I finish off the little brat. Longbottom!" Voldemort called out to the sobbing boy who he had just now taken the Cruciatus Curse off. "You will pay for what you did to Bella. Severus, a little gift, I think. Take the boy and kill him in front of my faithful servants from Hogwarts. Let them have a little fun with him first, and Severus, do weed out those who become queasy at the sight. I do not need weak followers." Apparently, Voldemort did not know that Marietta, Cho, Crabbe Goyle and the others had been recaptured.

"Thank you indeed my Lord. Your generosity knows no bounds, but may I be so humble as to request further entertainment to appease my ill temper for having served with the whelps for so many years?"

"Yes Severus, what is it? I grow bored of your self promotion," Voldemort warned Snape dangerously.

"My Lord, may I have the 'flower child?'" he said of Luna. "She has so annoyed me with her ridiculous rambling, I should like to silence her stupidity once and for all."

'A humble gift indeed Severus," Voldemort agreed, thrusting Luna forward toward Snape. Neville and Luna had figured out the game, but they were loathe to leave Harry and Ginny, though up until now, they felt they had been utterly useless.

Snape Apparated Neville and Luna back to where the twins, the Creevey brothers, and Angelina, who now had her eyes covered in thick bandages sat. Hugs were exchanged quickly of relief and fear. Harry and Ginny were with Voldemort...alone.

Snape had given Fred another dose of Polyjuice Potion, and George had added a lock of his red hair to it, to try to get Fred to hold on for another hour. It worked again, but not nearly as effectively as it had done the first time. Fred felt the nauseous feeling return as he felt the subtle change that no one noticed, occur in his body. Once again, his bones mended to match his brothers, who he now noticed was a touch broader in the ribs than he was. He made a note to work out if he lived through this. Couldn't have that. George helped him to his feet and they ran back toward the Death Eaters, still intent on fighting, toward the frozen lake, meeting up with Ron and Hermione on the way, who were still in their hiding spot, wands drawn in absolute impotence against so many.

The Creevey brothers put themselves forward first with a plan as the friends saw reinforcements coming in from behind just where they stood, led by Mad Eye Moody. No one had seen Remus Lupin for over two hours now. The Creeveys hid under the Invisibility Cloak together and made their way out onto the ice as Hermione held her breath, while Snape muttered instructions. Death Eaters were still human, still vulnerable the same as anyone else. Dennis and Collin hoped to use the variation of the Imperius Curse they had somehow learned the past summer on as many of the Death Eaters as they could before being caught...they were sure they would be, but they had pledged to protect Harry, much to Harry's dismay.

The cracking under the feet of the boys as they skittered across the slippery surface of the ice, caused a few Death Eaters to turn around to look directly though them, but taking the noise as the high winds and snapping branches of frozen tree limbs in the distance at the water's edge, they turned back to watch the show. The Creeveys decided what to do and within minutes, Death Eaters were throwing themselves headlong into their fellows like bowling balls and soon at least twenty of them of them were on their behinds on the ice cursing the ones who had done it. They were like school children as Ginny mustered up enough courage to cast a Discord Curse, causing those that had been hit to start hitting back with fists and even curses. It seemed Tom hadn't thought this out as he had planned. In raising his hands, certain that the girl was too afraid to move, Ginny slipped from his grasp, grabbing the closest Death Eater's wand and trying to toss it to Harry.

Voldemort was livid that Ginny's first thought after pledging allegiance for her life to be spared, was to help the cursed boy, the bane of his existence. He aimed the Killing Curse at her. The shot of green light sped toward Ginny with lightening speed and accuracy, but Harry had shoved one of the Death Eaters, who was already in an ungainly slide, having been pushed by another Death Eater, into the path of the Killing Curse. Caught off guard, Voldemort then aimed a Slicing Curse at Ginny, this time, hitting his mark, missing Ginny's main artery by a fraction of an inch. Blood gushed from the wound as she fell to ice, blood crawling slowly across the frozen surface toward the hole that Voldemort had covered over which held Harry's wand like a showcase window.

"NO!" Harry screamed again, as he rushed to Ginny's side, heedless of the Dark Lord having aimed his wand once more, this time to end it. Show time was over. Just as Harry would have reached his beloved, she disappeared into thin air. Dumbledore had arrived, and he was angry. Harry did not know if Ginny was still alive. She had stopped moving as he made his way toward her. The Warming Potion Snape had given him was wearing off, the numbness returning to his body, but in no comparison to his frozen heart. His world had ended.

He heard Ginny one last time, "Harry! Turn around! Fight!" she pleaded and then her voice was silenced.

Harry turned around and slid out of the way of the shaft of green light that had come from Voldemort's wand. He was angry. One way or the other, this was over, tonight. The Imperius Curse the Creeveys had performed so well on the Death Eaters did not effect the Dark Lord, who merely was caught off guard for a moment, looking for it's source. Collin took a deep breath, as he ploughed into the Dark Lord head first, knocking him to the ground and skidding across the ice. Harry had said that hand to hand combat should be used when all else fails because powerful wizards don't expect to be upended by physical force alone. Voldemort was going to kill Collin, but he had bigger fish to fry, fish that were going to get away. He put the boy in a Body Bind, planning to flay him alive later.

Now Ron and Hermione became visible to Harry near the edge of the lake. Hermione was indeed a powerful witch as she- who- hated- to- fly, flew on a broom with Ron out to help him.

Harry dodged between Death Eaters who were now battling with Aurors and other DA members. It was the bloodiest battle yet. Voldemort in his blind rage struck quite a few of his own followers down trying to hit Harry through the throngs of fighting wizards and witches. He would not lose again.

Harry felt a magical rope wind its way around his body. It glowed blue and he saw with a thrill of horror, the rope envelope Ron and Hermione as well. Voldemort screamed in rage as two other figures appeared in the sky illuminated in blue. Two other figures who were supposed to be dead. Luna and Neville were supposed to be dead. He would forgive Snape postumously if he were dead, if not, he would kill him himself for having failed him. Harry gasped when the limp form of Ginny Weasley Apparated right along with the rest who had fought beside him at the Ministry last year. Her neck had been bandaged, but blood continued to ooze through and she dangled as though dead in the air before landing unceremoniously on the other side the lake, utterly away from the help they so longed for.

Voldemort did not have his precious audience any longer, they were being defeated on the other side of the lake as once again, Fred and George made use of what they now called their April Fool's defence, by using the Headless Hats to appear dead, thus letting the Death Eaters pass them over, only to be overtaken from the rear, when the dead would rise and strike them down. They also used the Headless Hats on fallen Death Eaters to make them appear dead so they wouldn't be enervated by their partners to add to the army against them. A modern Trojan horse style plan.

The Dark Mark burned on a few selected Death Eaters who Apparated at the Dark Lord's side once again. He would not be entirely without witness. They were very near the shore. Remus Lupin smelled fresh blood, and found himself hurrying to the scent, worried that it was his wolf instinct driving him on. Dumbledore Apparated to stand beside the werewolf now.

"Remus," the headmaster said gravelly. "Can you understand me?" Remus felt stung by the words as he saw the headmaster who had trusted him for all these years, had a protective charm around him as he approached the wolf. In answer, Lupin let a small whimper out that sounded more like a dog. "It is both a curse and a blessing," Dumbledore stated sadly as more Death Eaters Apparated at the site, with only a few Aurors having been free to leave the battle at the other side of the lake. Mad Eye stood with Dumbledore, as did Tonks, who placed an hand on Remus's back, more like petting a dog, but Remus felt the touch as surely as if it had caressed his man's flesh as he looked up at her, knowing what he had to do. He no longer possessed the dexterity to hold a wand, and would therefore have to fight like a wolf.

Without a word, they plunged across the ice toward where Harry and his friends had been taken and the Death Eaters, so shocked to see a werewolf charging straight for them, actually began to run. Death Eaters had nightmares as children too, and werewolves were among the worst for young wizards and witches, who knew only too well that they roamed freely. Voldemort called furiously once again in his anger, releasing the bonds of blue light around the friends. Dumbledore tossed Harry his wand as he crashed into the battle. Voldemort's eyes were filled with fear. He hadn't been this close to his old and feared headmaster since last year and he had hoped to get to kill Harry without the old man's interference. Voldemort had all but known the prophecy since last year anyway, but in killing professor Trelawny and blowing up her beloved Divination Tower, he had learned its full contents before she had died. He cursed himself for letting the old pride of Tom Riddle bubble putridly to the surface of his new persona Voldemort once more, wanting to make the boy bow before him before he died, but no more, now Potter must die, but where was he!

Harry had been in a Full Body Bind when Ron aimed a Cutting Curse at the offending Death Eater, effectively putting an end to it, just as Voldemort was making his way toward them, and Voldemort thought to return the favour to Ron by opening a hole in the ice, and causing Ron to fall into it. He sealed the hole over with satisfaction as Harry saw Ron's wand sink away from his pounding fists which were hitting the surface frantically without effect. It was coming true! The image of Ron falling into and under the surface of water... It was all really happening! Fighting was almost pointless, he realized with despair, but he sought to do as much damage as he possibly could before he would meet his own end, and he would try to save as many lives as he could, starting with Ron's, and he vowed that Ginny would not remain with Voldemort, dead or alive.

A/N Well, okay I said I'd update in a week but things have been very busy. I will have an update with the final chapters and epilogue starting next week. We will be done before Christmas, which will be a gift for me as I had so much fun doing this. With this being my first story that was started and finished over a year ago now, I feel bittersweet about it coming to an end. This is my longest story as well and I wished that my writing talents had surfaced in a broader way when I started this one because actually, my newer stories are better. I guess one has to start somewhere... One day I will edit this story down to be shorter with less errors and less draggy parts. For those of you who asked (thank you!) my ankle is getting better and the kitten, who is now aptly named Potter, has survived. The only problem is, we were supposed to get a home for it, but my big black male cat has adopted it! He loves this little kitten with all his heart and he makes sure it eats, he cleans it and then uses it as a pillow...sigh! Anyway, please hug a tree and be kind to animals and each other, the world needs that right now...in short, be like my big black cat! Thanks for the reviews...I really appreciate them!


	56. No Mother To Save You Now!

It was perhaps not the most gentle of charms Harry could have used to save Ron who was sinking beneath the ice, eyes still wide open in shock, but a panicked person will grasp at any straw thrown to a drowning soul. Ron had saved Harry's life only moments ago and he would not die for it, Harry vowed.

"Accio Ron!" Harry bellowed as Ron crashed through the ice, getting cut by the jagged edges as he emerged though a hole that his own body had made, landing blue faced on the ice next to Ginny. A Death Eater who had just converged on Ginny, now had a double target, but he would die in his foolish attemp to kill both Weasleys at once.

Lupin bound from his place of concelment into the very large man who was towering over Ron and Ginny. He didn't think as he sank his teeth into the man's adam's apple, knocking him dead to the ground. The wolf tasted the blood and liked it in a sick sort of way, sick only because it conflicted with poor Remus' need to go the edge of the lake to vomit. He had killed a man in his werewolf form, after all these years of being so careful since that one incident...but no, not now, he wouldn't think of it. This was different, he tried to console himself, running his paw roughly over his nose to get the blood off. There was no time for this.

As Lupin wallowed by the lake edge, Hermione had had to defend him herself by using a Bone Breaking Charm aimed just below a Death Eaters' knees sending him to the ground with two broken legs howling in pain, but wand still in hand. Lupin rounded on the man, also large, Crabbe Senior and killed him much the same way as he had Goyle, only this time, his powerful jaws felt the sickly snap of the overlarge neck, and felt the head drape to the side in his mouth as he spat out the man.

"Remus, my old friend," came a voice that rang with false sincerity, why don't you be a good dog and put your tail between your legs and leave. You could be so much fun as an ally. We don't even judge you the way they do..." Wormtail said with contempt, flashing his silver hand menacingly toward Hermione. Wormtail placed a Shield Charm around himself and charged forward toward the werewolf who was at one time Lupin, Sirius, and James' friend.

"Stupid rat!" Hermione cried, trying to buy Lupin time to come to his senses again, for he had become very werewolf like in the presence of this foe, the traitor who had sold Lily and James to Voldemort.

Wormtail thought highly of himself, as he fancied now, especially what with Lucius and Bellatrix's death and Snape in suspicion of treachery, he would finally be in his rightful place beside his lord once and for all, sharing in the glory, but Voldemort does not share power and he would have done well to heed this.

"Werewolves don't have tails!" Hermione exploded, revealing her position and trying to penetrate Wormtail's shield as Ron, who lay almost out cold, couldn't believe she was spouting off like a know it all in school to a known Death Eater. Ron did not see Hermione's plan in his fog filled senses as he found Ginny's hand and gripped it tight. It was warmer than his own hand, which meant she still lived.

Hermione's little lesson in werewolf anatomy in her third year, succeeded in buying Lupin some time as the faces of the Marauders, his friends flashed in his head. Dead, all of them, save Wormtail and himself, and probably before the long night would be out, the last of the Marauders would take their final stand, against one another, something that could never been foretold twenty years ago when they had been fast friends.

Wormtail had never been a scholar and he didn't appreciate Hermione's bossiness. He struck her down with an unknown curse and she fell to the hard surface of the lake as Lupin charged in for the kill, grabbing Pettigrew's wand arm in his vice-like jaws a fraction of a second too late to save Hermione. Remus, the werewolf had swallowed Wormtail's silver hand, a symbolic gift given to him by Voldemort for being faithful enough to return the Dark Lord to a flesh and blood living body.

The Dark Lord had had more foresight into the gift of a silver hand than the bumbling Peter Pettigrew realized, but he didn't think he'd have to spell it out for the stupid man. Wormtail was to kill the last of his friends, the werewolf with his silver hand, but now Remus had ripped it off, wand and all, swallowing it. Wormtail's howl of terror and pain split the night as he took off leaving a trail of blood in his haste to reach his master, whom he would distract for the last time with his stupidity.

Harry had just about been blown to bits by the Dark Lord once and for all when the terrorized Peter Pettigrew charged into the path of the curse before it hit him. Harry would not have been able to dodge the powerful curse cast by Voldemort at all, but at that exact second, Wormtail had approached Voldemort begging for a new hand so he could go finish off his nemesis. What Pettigrew instead, was blown to bits by his own master, who didn't seem too perturbed by his mistake, only angry that Peter had inadvertently saved Potter's life with his own. The usually placid lake surface was covered in Peter Pettigrew's blood.

Lupin had gotten the attention of one of the Aurors before he had limped off somewhere to die. Mad Eye called to him frantically and Tonks had heard the call, but could not follow Remus as she was in a fierce battle with Avery, finishing him off as Lupin limped out of sight. Dumbledore had slain twenty of the Death Eaters himself and the battle was wearing down.

Dumbledore saw Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry sought his advice and permission to do something he had dreamed had been wrong, up until now. Leave. Dumbledore nodded in the affirmative, with a pained expression behind tired blue eyes. Harry whispered goodbye to Ginny and somehow, even he did not know, he removed the Dark Lord away from his allies for a change, and better yet, away from his own friends, his family.

Harry didn't know what force of unseen will he had used to accomplish it, but he and Voldemort were now standing in the middle of the frozen lake. Voldemort was clearly furious and finished playing and was showing signs of wear. He aimed the Killing Curse straight at Harry's heart, but as Harry's wand was Voldemort's wand's twin, the curse faltered and died in mid air. Harry felt no shame as he tried the Avada Kadavra, and this time he meant it with his whole heart. This had to end. If Ginny was dead, it ended in vain for him, but at least the rest of the world could go on. This time, Harry's curse must have been stronger in desire to kill even than the Dark Lord's as he mixed the Dark Magic of the Killing Curse with the thoughts of picturing Ron and Hermione at their future wedding. He didn't dare think of Ginny, who may not be alive. It was a false hope. Voldemort had proven tonight that he wasn't allowed to have anyone to love even if he should walk away from this night intact. If she was dead, no victory could ever seem sweet to him.

The curse faltered in midair between them, but Harry's resolve was strong within him tonight, though he shivered without coat or shirt, the Warming Potion from Snape all but gone now. Each curse he had aimed tonight to save people or himself, had taken a little more from him each time, but Voldemort's red slit eyes grew as round as they were going to get in fear as Harry's newest curse turned yellow and hit squarely between the Dark Lord's eyes, knocking him backward and breaking the connection between the two wands.

Voldemort flew to his feet like it never happened before the Harry could aim another curse. Part of him wished the wands would perform Priori Incantatum again, so he could see his parents and Cedric again, if only for a moment before he would die. Voldemort placed him under the Cruciatus Curse, worse than any he had ever experienced. Tonight was not the night when victory would be Harry's. It was too soon. He was not healed from their last duel, Voldemort had seen with satisfaction, and though the foolish boy could have fled, he had stuck around to save his friends.

Voldemort's wand would not Accio or Expelliarmus Harry's wand from him, so Voldemort walked right up to him as he writhed on the ground in agony and took it from his hand. Voldemort became alarmed when he found he could not let go of Harry's wand as he had fought to throw it away when it burned red hot in his hand while his own wand went icy cold, burning in opposite cold like dry ice, but the wands could not fight against the wandless magic the Dark Lord possessed for just such a predicament.

The flesh on both of the Dark Lord's hands burned. No matter, he would grow more skin. Voldemort took his one last cheap shot, shouting half from pain of his burning hands, half in anger and taunt.

"Well Potter, this time, you do not have your saint mother to save you!" Voldemort could not use the Killing Curse without benefit of a wand, so he endured the pain of his burning flesh, using Harry's red hot wand to burn a hole in the ice. With this done, he grabbed the still writhing boy, and hissed a less powerful curse at him, causing Harry to relive his worst experiences over and over again in fast motion until the moment when he would die. There was nothing Harry could do. Cedric, his parents, Sirius, Ginny, Ron and the list went on, with visions also of the deaths he had caused. He was a murderer now even before he had gotten to Voldemort, which he knew now, he never would. He had let them down...he had let them all down.

Harry struggled for life out of guilt as the disturbing imagery filled his senses, along with something else...water! Voldemort was drowning him. Voldemort was forcing his head under the water and once again reminding him through his blinding pain, that his mother could not save him now. The anger from the night he had lost his powers to wander bodiless and frail, had never left Voldemort, and now Harry would pay with taunts about his mother before he would die. Voldemort couldn't resist letting Harry up one last time, as weak as he was to turn him onto his back and ask him, "Where's your precious mommy now Potter!" Harry knew his brain was addled from so many blows and the curse which caused his worst experiences to flow though his mind over and over again even now.

"Where's your mommy now, eh Potter!" Voldemort had actually stood, steam hissing from his burning flesh, which now showed actual bone. Harry wanted to turn away from the terrible sight. He couldn't stand to hear this foul beast that stood towering over him, say Lily's name again and again, sometimes calling her his mommy, sometimes precious Lily flower. The Dark Lord's eyes grew in fascinated horror as he looked for the last time into the Harry's eyes, exactly like his mother's, to see a reflection in them that he could not believe in his wildest dreams.

"Where's you mommy now!" The cruel taunt died on the Dark Lord's, lips as Sashu, the dragon who had cradled Harry in her love along with her other babies, suddenly swept down from the sky on the Dark Lord, unleashing a fiery burst of flame, engulfing the Dark Lord completely. She picked Voldemort up, beating her mighty wings in anger, dropping him from a great height, still in flames. Harry heard the ice crack beneath him as Voldemort landed, still aflame and howling in agony. A burned hand had been one thing, but Voldemort was indeed flesh and blood now and he was as injured as Harry had been that fateful day last summer.

Sashu made a sweep to come around for another assault as Voldemort raised his own wand toward the dragon whom Harry had come to love. Harry's wand fell from Voldemort's fleshless fingers and he looked like his face had melted into a more grotesque mask if possible than before. Sashu was stuck by a curse which had penetrated her protective dragon scales very effectively and Harry watched in utter despair as she crashed through the ice, eyes closed as Voldemort Apparated away, while calling to Harry with smoke coming from his burning mouth. "It will be done, Potter!"

Turrets of water plumed into the air, keeping him flat on his back as it fell in hard waves over his exposed flesh. The cold felt like a thousand knives stabbing into his body.

Harry tried get up but as the waves from the great beast's crashing into the water settled into an immediate freeze, he found himself frozen to the surface of the ice. The Cruciatus Curse had somewhat let up now that Voldemort was gone, but now he had another problem as he lay panting, trying to get his bearings. He turned his head, hearing his hair cracking away from the surface of the ice. The ice cracked fully toward his prone body, and he tried to get up again, with frozen tears in the corners of his eyes, crying out for Sashu to hear him through the ice. No, his precious mother, Lily had not been there to save him, but a mother had, Harry thought sadly as his body fell through the ice too as it cracked from the steam of Sashu's furnace hot, but now extinguished mouth. He had lost another mother.

Harry still struggled for life as his body sunk toward the bottom of the lake, though he couldn't quite now find the strength. The familiar sense of warmth and peace enveloped him once his struggle to get air had been lost. He thought he could hear voices, but he couldn't now make them out. He felt something slimy snake around his torso and felt himself rising for the surface. The giant squid heaved him up onto the surface of the lake once more, but he found his ability to draw air was almost gone. He made a feeble attempt, slightly angry with the squid for having brought him to the surface where he would surely die anyway, but the voices had been real.

Harry lay now on a soft warm blanket on the icy surface as faces swam in and out of focus in his dulled mind, and still, the visions left over from Voldemort's cruel curse continued. In a moment of lucidity, he saw Sashu's body pulled through the ice, still steaming. Dumbledore had had to reinforce the surface of the lake so the Aurors could stand firmly upon it to retrieve her. Still the steam from her mouth threatened to melt the entire surface for hectares around had it not been magiced to stay frozen. Harry felt someone place their cloak over him for additional warmth.

Tonks had wanted to join the search party looking for Remus, who had yet to be found, but had been forbidden and was assigned to draw the dead dragon out of the lake, lest the rotting carcass pollute a good portion of it and kill off some of the inhabitants, so large and magnificent in size a creature she was, but even she in her deepest dispar, cried out in pure joy as there was a loud indignat 'hrmph!' coming from the dragon and all of the Aurors went skittering out of the way as the largest rain shower not caused by mother nature herself fell upon the entire area, dowsing even Harry with a great tide of warm water.

Sashu was alive. Harry smiled through his pain as she stood to her full height, but as clumsily as her beloved babies in her exhaustion. Seeing Harry in her sights, all of the attending mediwizards scrambled from his side as she laid her great head next to his entire body. She had no warming flame to blow over him just now, but her hot breath felt wonderful against his exposed face. Snowflakes flew into his eyes, quickly being washed away by his tears which seemed as plentiful as the flakes themselves. No one had told him the status of his friends. The battle had been raging in full when he had left them... Did they yet live?

Harry tried to mutter his thanks to Sashu, but words would not come to him. He was just too weak. Charlie Weasley was the only one brave enough to come near the two family members. He drew the blankets tighter around Harry's body as Sashu watched him carefully. "Always the mama, eh, Sashu?" Charlie asked affectionately. Charlie's handsome face was marked with a large gash which had been crudely healed and he sat wearily beside them. Harry wondered at this. It seemed like they should be going somewhere and then it hit him. He had heard that Hogwarts had been attacked. Was it gone? Was the one place he could call home, gone after all these years?

Against Charlie's wishes, Sashu had flown clumsily and weakly off to her babies, leaving Harry feeling a gap in his heart. He knew he'd see her again, but there was an uncertainty too in the way she had nudged him so tightly before leaving.

Harry tossed in his nightmares, waking up someplace new to him. There were tents all over the place, he could see out of the flap of his own. He wondered in what few vague lucid thoughts he could muster, why he was not, as usual, in the Hospital Wing. Harry had heard Dumbledore say something about him not being able to be treated effectively until something of importance could be obtained from the Headmaster's office and he heard Dumbledore being assured by Snape that it would be found in time to save him from insanity. Harry knew they meant him. Every time he closed his eyes, no matter how many potions they gave him, the curse that voldemort had placed upon him, still had effect somehow and it was slowly taking all his strength and will to live. How many times could a person endure their worst experiences, especially when that person was Harry Potter? He lay there screaming to himself, not able to form words, 'would someone please tell me where my friends are!'

He heard Hermione's voice and it was sweet music to his ears, but she was crying. He willed himself to open his eyes, but when he did, he didn't see Hermione as she stood, wounded but healing. He saw her take the curse over and again and saw her head bounce of the ice again and again until he closed his eyes. He had cried out, but Hermione had not noticed. Why had she not noticed?

Upon hearing Ron's voice, Harry's spirits lifted even higher, but when he looked at his best friend, he could only see Ron taking a Cutting Curse, or falling away through the icy surface of the water. He explained as calmly as he could to Ron that he could not look at him, but begged him to stay by his side. Ron did not reply, but continued to hold Hermione. Why hadn't he promised to stay with him?

Harry heard the great cry of a werewolf as the sun rose into sight on the now clear bitterly cold dawn, in a flash of brilliant pink. It would be a cold spring. March had come in like a lamb and gone out like a lion, just like Trelawany had said in the last seer vision she would ever have, for she had indeed perished at the school before the great turret of the North Tower had been blown through the sky.

Harry had heard Tonks give a cry of relief when she had heard the werewolve's call and she had woken the camp by calling back werewolf fashion, knowing that if her Remus wanted to come back, he would be fully human by the time he would reach them, but she had not been told of the battle he had endured, or that Madam Pomfrey stood at the ready, waiting for the Aurors and Order members to capture him and bring him for treatment against his will. If anything poor Remus had given up on a normal life more than Harry had. Horrible dreams captured Harry once more as he begged in his mind for news of Ginny. Every single person was important to him, but he needed her. She was his lifeline.

A/N Thanks so much for all the kind reviews and prodding. The next chapter will be the last and then there will be an epilogue. I wrote this before HBP, so I'm pretty happy with the Lupin part with his having been in his own mind, but having to save Harry and his friends werewolf fashion, while when HBP came out, we learned the Fenrir Greyback did that very thing for evil purposes. You see, this whole story was written out in pen and paper before I even knew what fanfiction was, just after OOTP was released, so now the job is typing it out and editing as best I can. I can see the end of the handwritten version coming as I type this out and my typing has improved but is still slow. I will have another chapter by the weekend and I thank you for your patience. Also, for those of you who take the time to review and assure me that this isn't too long, I am speechless with gratitude. You have given me great joy and I hope your holidays are going great. Most of all, I wish for peace for everyone in the new year, humans and our animal friends throughout the world. Peace.


	57. Reach For Me!

Remus lingered in a small cave, tormented body and mind, sickened by what he had done and of who he was, and with the failure of the research into a cure for his affliction, he always would be. Mad Eye Moody and Kingsley Shaklebolt were not afraid as they approached the werewolves domain. Lupin had not yet transformed back into human form, for the full moon still held stubbornly in the sky in competition to the rising sun. He growled feebly when they entered, not expecting to have been found.

"Come Remus, you must get treatment for that," Moody growled, knowing Remus had swallowed the silver hand of Wormtail. Moody did not have x ray vision as such, but he could somehow see what poison lurked in Lupin's body. "If you transform with that in you, it'll wreck your gizzards and you know there's more than one way to lose a buttock! If you try to pass that thing as a man..."

Lupin couldn't help it. Mad Eye was insane, but he could have sworn he saw the werewolf's mouth curl into a smile as he mentioned the lost buttock again. Lupin was very ill and hallucinations had taken him everywhere that night. Both he and Harry clung to whatever horrible reality was available to them, for it was better than the alternative, the nightmares of the past. But it seemed, not all dreams are evil...

"Come on Moony," came James voice. "You need to take care of my son. You know you would have been Godfather to Harry too if not for the stupid laws..." Lupin knew the vision wasn't real, but for some reason, he could believe it in his forlorn state. He needed to believe it.

A bark like voice entered his mind as he closed his eyes picturing Sirius as he'd been when they were young. "You're the last Marauder, Moony. Who's going to teach the next generation? Who will teach them the new tunnels of Hogwarts now that we're gone? Who's going to make the next Marauder's Map?" Lupin was tired. How could this vision from the past know that the castle had been devastated and that Hogwarts was undergoing massive restoration as they spoke? "Harry needs you Moony. You have a home to give him now..."

"Yes, Sirius. Your home, the home he gave me..." Lupin cried out loud as Mad Eye let him finish his debate with unseen phantoms.

"You of all people know that a home isn't just a building. It was just a building to me...to him, now it can be a home. Make something good come from all of this Moony, I beg you, and tell Harry I wish I could be there for him..."

"Wait, Padfoot, don't go!" Lupin wailed as Kingsley heard the last few bits of conversation come from the half transformed man. Even the sturdy Aurors felt compelled to swallow the lumps that had formed in both their throats at the sight of such despair. Together, they Apparated Lupin back to the encampment where he was placed in a tent and Madam Pomfrey began the surgery to remove the silver hand which had caused Lupin to fall into unconsciousness when he had fallen silent from his talk with the dead. They worked quickly as wolf became man as they closed him up. He belonged in St Mungos, but it was too risky at this point to move him there in his condition.

Harry still did not know whether Ginny had survived the Cutting Curse to her neck. As he saw her fall over again, in reality, she lay in a tent not far from his, with her mother and Elijah, who as it turned out, as with all Clover House students, was gifted in healing. His gift was healing the mind and it was he who had suggested to Dumbledore that one way to break the curse on Harry was to use a Pensieve. They would need to get through to Harry that he needed to put the horrific visions that Voldemort's parting evil gift to him evoked over and over again, into the Pensieve as they occurred, but so far, the boy had not stirred since he had been brought back to the encampment. Harry was trapped in his own mind and no one could really hear his cries for help and answers.

Ginny stirred for the first time that afternoon. Her vocal cords had been damaged, but they would heal as would she. She was being given very strong doses of blood restorative as was Fred, who had not regained consciousness since the Polyjuice Potion had worn off. Of all the wounded save Harry only, he lay the closest to death. George laid in the bed beside his brother's, bandaged up from his damaged ankle and shoulder and under a very strong Calming Potion. Luna slept in a chair beside Neville's bed. He had endured five minutes of a full Cruciatus Curse, but lived, mind intact. The Creevey brothers had been spared life threatening injury, sustaining little more than cuts and bruises which they would not bother the matron with.

Katie Belle sat on the edge of Angelina Johnson's bed. Angelina wore heavy gauze bandages on her eyes, but was assured that once things were restored to normal, she would go to St Mungos to have her sight restored. Already, hope crept back into some of their lives, as someone said, "I hear the new Quidditch Pitch is amazing and the stands are all like luxury boxes at a Muggle Football game." That had to be Dean Thomas's voice coming from the next cubicle. Angelina smiled slightly to herself. Dean had suffered a concussion as he insisted on being the last one to leave the post office, having saved dozens of lives, and freeing several caged owls to their freedom, one of whom, sat perched on his bed, a gift from the Postmaster himself.

Tales of bravery and loss circulated for the rest of the day. Harry lay taking it all in through the volley of torment in his mind which he could not leave. Footsteps were approaching. "Dumbledore!" Harry screamed, but when the headmaster answered him, it was from that same faraway place like when been on the operating table the previous summer. Harry had not spoken at all, and now, he was even more petrified. He could not stay here. Here was worse even than death, reliving over and over again the horrors of his life. Harry could at least breathe a little easier when finally someone told him...Ginny lived! but when he thought of her, her neck slashed time and time again until he could bear it no longer and begged for death.

Harry felt small hands firmly planted on his forehead as Tyler's tender voice broke through the mire to find the lion heart that beat in Harry's chest. Harry wondered why he had not transformed into his Griffin form, and Tyler answered without question, "Because Harry, you knew they would come to you too if you transformed, all of them, and you wouldn't let them," and Harry now had a small vision of a small ginger cat in his mind. He knew it was Ginny. Even Ginny didn't know this hidden cat yet, but Tyler had found it as he had helped his mother and Madam Pomfrey tend to the youngest Weasley. Harry knew Ron would just love that, being himself a very small bird and all.

Harry knew he was supposed to use the love his friends had for him, but he wouldn't summon them to certain death unless he was absolutely sure that the Dark Lord would die too. He thought, 'if I live, we should practice to become real Animagi, maybe Moony'll teach us...' but with that final pleasant thought, the nightmares took over completely and now there was the dilemma that he could not live in his horrible dream world any longer. Harry did not know that with every vision, he was losing his very battle for his life.

Harry's physical body had suffered third degree frostbite, shattered leg bones again from the duration of thrashing around under the Cruciatus Curse and he had pneumonia so bad, even Madam Pomfrey could not totally magically heal it. He had taken in vast quantities of cold lake water and had been submerged for almost four minutes. It was a miracle he lived at all...and this with the fact that he hadn't been healed from his first devastating injuries.

At last, those that waited for news that the item needed from Dumbledore's ruined office had been found, were rewarded. Dumbledore set the Pensieve down next to Harry's bed and guided Harry's thoughts to it with a powerful Legilimency Charm. Harry tried to hear and obey Dumbledore but his voice kept disappearing as if someone had turned off the light that Harry so desperately clung to.

Tyler tried to provide Harry with strength and healing, but it wasn't enough. Dumbledore struggled to hold the Legilemency as Harry was told to let the horrible repeating visions happen, but to try to thread them together and place them in the Pensieve. Now Dumbledore held the Pensieve up to Harry's hands to touch, but though Harry tried, he could not feel the basin of memories and he could not find it. The Pensieve being so close only seemed to aggravate the devastating curse, until the one that Voldemort was in began to play out in his mind. He was going to kiss Ginny! Again and again...

"Noooooo!" Harry shouted, but no one heard...

Ginny sat up in her bed, scaring her mother who tried to force her to lay back down and remain still like the Matron had instructed, but she had heard Harry's silent pleas.

Before Mrs Weasley could stop her, Ginny was in Harry's cubicle, falling into the chair just as Dumbledore had leapt from it. Her hands reached out and fell on Harry's cold chest, touching the Amulette Sirius had given him and the Pensieve simultaneously. It was like when she had fallen through the pages of Tom Riddle's diary.

"Harry!" she screamed out, as Voldemort struck down Cedric Diggory for the hundredth time that day in Harry's mind. Now Ginny felt the horror Harry had spoken of so rarely and quietly to her. From Harry's point of view of the vision, he could see Ginny, and he could see the bandages around her neck, though the dream that played out in his mind, had seen her cut again, right in front of the Ginny who now stood in front of him. For a moment, from Ginny's confused point of view from having been sucked into Harry's world, and seeing how bad the Cutting Curse looked, Ginny's hand slipped from the Amulette and the connection was broken. Someone was trying to pull her away from Harry but she would not let go, though she did not know how to help him. She would suffer with him, if only to be there for him. She reached for the Amulette again.

Clover House had not been feared and despised by dark forces for no reason. They were the purest form of white magic, the healers, the builders of beautiful places." Elijah had been on his way to perfecting his mind healing techniques when he had been wiped from the map five hundred years ago. He had not been able to heal his fellow Clover House mate, who found he could not go on in this new time, and his confidence had never fully returned, but this was a situation, where do something, maybe it would work, do nothing, and Harry would die from his mind injuries inflicted by Voldemort.

Tyler stayed to comfort Harry, holding his hand and Harry could still hear he and the headmaster pleading for him to hold on. He was on the edge of his sanity, but the brief glimpses of Ginny kept him holding on. Ginny watched as a five year old Harry was thrown into the cupboard under the stairs during a raging thunderstorm. No wonder he jumped with every crash to this day, hoping no one noticed. She had never let on that she did.

Ginny thought her heart would break with pity for Harry, but she held out as Elijah, who had helped her calm down somewhat, entered into Harry's mind. He could not heal the boy, but he was the only one who could make Harry concentrate on a thread of silver wire he was holding in his hands. Every time Harry would finally grasp it though, it would fall from Elijah's hands. It was then that Elijah realized what he must do, and he gave the thread to Ginny, hoping the nightmarish visions the poor boy was having wouldn't break her mind too. Ginny willingly took the silver thread and held the end of it to the Pensieve. The other hand she had on the Amulette and now both he and she could feel the warmth of the object on their skin.

Ginny now was not only watching as an affected bystander to his pain, she could feel it, though on the surface only. When Harry realized that Ginny could see the visions too, he broke his concentration on the silvery thread that bound he and Ginny to the Pensieve, which Harry could now see in his unconscious mind. He would not put her through having to see his tormented past and with his one last burst of strength left in his mind, he pushed her out, he pushed them all out and fell back to being utterly alone in his pain wracked body and mind. She may as well have been standing in battle with him to have to witness all of this, and Harry would not have that. He didn't honestly think he could come back now anyway. He wished for the bliss of unconsciousness, to fall into the inky blackness that had been his for weeks at St Mungos in the summer past, but the curse would not let him die in peace and he wondered how long it would be before he was left dead, or alive, as a mere shell of a body with no mind left. Is this how Sirius had suffered in Azkaban?

Harry was so low, he was left by the Dark Lord without even the hope that he would be reunited with his parents, Sirius, or get to apologize to Cedric. There was nothing to go back for as broken as his mind was, and there was nothing to go forward to. The Dark Lord had seen to that. It was one thing to hope for death when he had hoped for some sort of ironic happiness in the end, but now a new feeling was taking place, one that he could not control...cold, all encompassing fear, for himself, for the Weasleys, for Hermione , for all of them...for Ginny. Voldemort would claim her if Harry gave up and he knew it, but he didn't know how to fight this. How does one fight oneself? For first he must master his fears.

Ginny was anguished and furious with Harry for letting his 'saving people thing' get in the way of the help she had so hoped to give him. He would not reach for the thread in her hands again, no matter how hard they tried it again, but this time it was not because he didn't want to, but because he was just too far gone to find it again. It was to Ginny like fishing in a vast ocean with but one fish in it. She could still see and hear his visions of past tortures and his deep despair, but she could no longer feel them, and what hurt and made her heart sting with a sad joy, was the fact that he now, at least reached willingly, reached for the thread with his mind, but could not grasp hold of it.

Dumbledore himself was now the only voice Harry could hear among the horrible sounds of his past life. He told Harry that love is not intangible. It could be felt, heard and seen, if only he would be brave enough to let it in, even with the possibility that it would not remain. Ginny knew that Harry had let go because he couldn't bear to lose her. Death would almost be easier. She was heartened to know that it was not that he considered her too weak to share his burden. He had felt too weak to share it with her, and now he didn't know how to get back. Harry knew himself that he was dying, for the horrible images had finally started to leave blank spaces between which he could see them clearly as though on a television screen and through his eyelids he could mark the passage of day into night.

Ginny had been taken, exhausted back to her bed after hours of trying to reach him. Harry could hear the Matron telling Dumbledore that his heart was growing weak and it wouldn't be long. Voldemort had succeeded after all. Harry wondered grimly how the Dark Lord faired with his burns and broken bones at the very least from his beating from his great dragon mother. His scar was quiet, or maybe he just couldn't feel it anymore. Maybe the Dark Lord was lying somewhere dying as well. The thought did please Harry in a small way, but now he wondered that even if the Dark Lord was drawing his last breath, if he passed first, would the Dark Lord gain the strength he so desperately desired from across the miles, learning of the death and strengthening his resolve to live, using every available means of Dark Magic to make this so? Now, Harry wanted to live more than ever, fearing that the Dark Lord would come back even more terrible if that were possible, than before if he allowed himself to give up.

Dumbledore gravelly announced that there was but one more thing to try to bring the boy back to himself, but it was so risky, it could kill him just the same. The odds were less than eighty/ twenty and others would be put at risk as well. There were but three of the many horrors Harry had experienced in his life that had made it into the Pensieve, which would now explain the brief glimpses he had of nothingness, instead of all encompassing fear and agony. Two, minor in comparison to the third one swirling in the metal bowl. The worst Harry had ever felt. Cedric hit with the Killing Curse and he flinging himself behind a tombstone to avoid the curse himself...feeling Wormtail roll his sleeve up and rob him of his blood, the whole terrifying, guilt ridden experience from start to finish.

Dumbledore knew before Poppy had even explained through a quaking voice, that this could kill the boy, giving Harry back one of the memories they had so mercifully removed from him in the first place. But the difference this time, was that now, Harry would not be alone in the memory of the graveyard in his fourth year. Ron, Hermione and Ginny would not be able to help him through his ordeal, for it was history as it had actually unfolded, but this time, they hoped to enter the memory with him, to coax him from the reliving of it and strengthen him to reach for the silver thread which would then, on in the slim chance it would work, fill the Pensieve with all subsequent horrible memories, leaving Harry in a state even Dumbledore himself could not predict, but anything had to be better than the hell in which he now lived. Pensieves were voluntary vaults for storing memories one wished to keep for later, not ever before having been used as a mind poultice to draw poisonous memories which had been seared to the surface of the mind through a horrible curse such as Harry was under.

In essence, they were scaring Harry so he could call for his friends like he had before when the dreams would take him to new heights of terror, for Harry now didn't even know how to call for help even if he had wanted to, and now, he very much did. Dumbledore's words about love and Ron, Ginny and Hermione's words that he had heard while in St Mungos, played in the background of the nightmares. They wanted to be with him, to help him. It had finally sunk in. They had not left him, even though they themselves had been in mortal danger coming for him, like he had done for them. Like it or not, they were bonded together come what may. If only Harry could have accepted this for real in his heart and his mind, instead of trying to protect them, he could have been saved easier.

Harry left his mind as open as possible, though fearing for his friends. He knew they were as much a part of the prophecy as he had been now, for they were linked by love, the very love that once again had thwarted the Dark Lord. Harry did not know what was coming. He had only hoped to see Ginny one last time, hoping to tell her he loved her, hoping to tell her that he believed in them, like they had always, he realized, believed in him. He did not expect the thunderous explosion of stars and pain that gripped his body and mind as Dumbledore, drawing a breath of grim resolution, unleashed the Pensieve in reverse onto Harry's fragile mind.

Everyone with ten tents either way, were jolted into horrified silence as a scream they knew was Harry's split the air. It was the first noise he had made since he had been brought almost lifeless to the encampment of wounded people. Madam Pomfrey could not allow him to thrash around his bed like he had begun to do, bodily reliving the nightmare of the Triwizard Tournament. Already Cedric had been stricken down as Harry dove for cover behind a tombstone, but someplace far away, the Matron had put him a Full Body Bind. His broken bones would not stay precariously mended though they were, intact if he moved even a fraction of inch too far either way.

Harry felt split in two. There was the boy on the ground, under the Cruciatus Curse, and there was the Griffin he had morphed into, hovering overhead. The Harry that was the Griffin, did not understand that he could do nothing to stop the events below from happening. It felt like a second chance. He dove to the ground to save 'Harry' and 'Cedric', but as he flew toward Wormtail to try to prevent his taking his blood and to pick him up in his mighty talons and beat him with his vast wings, he dove through mere air, affecting Pettigrew's slicing of his arm not at all. It had happened, over and over again, in order, out of order, but always the same result. He could not change the past, but even in Griffin form, he felt the fear as he flew to 'Harry's' terror etched figure crouched behind the tombstone, watching his parents and Cedric and the Dark Lord's other victims emerge from his wand tip. Even from his great height, Harry paused to watch the lovely picture of his mother encourage him to go, and even now, her words buoyed him, and he found that even Griffins could cry as large tears slid down his beak and onto his shiny horse body.

Harry's heart in his human body that he long ago left as far as he knew, was beating so furiously, that all of the potions the Matron tried could not slow it down. He was in immediate danger of heart failure. The fear had reached a crescendo. Harry had not become immune to it or desensitized to it. That was the difference between he and the Dark Lord. It pained him every time he had to see Cedric stricken down and now the fear was that this would never stop, and that is when it happened. The tawny owl and the small killdeer appeared at his side. They didn't know what they could do for Harry, but they were hear, just as they had pledged. Harry had told them in a brief description how horrific that night had been, but he had spared them the details of certain things, like how Wormtail had collected his blood, with a crude dull knife. Hermione cringed watching the blade cut across his flesh. Ron's insticts had caused him to fly downward to try to save Harry again, but he quickly learned as Harry had, that the past was the past and one could only change the future.

Harry had wanted to summon them, but now that he'd done it, he felt that it was only to say goodbye. He regretted them having to see this with their eyes. Tyler and Elijah's voice drifted into the dream. They too had entered the Pensieve. Tyler to try to hold onto Harry's physical body, though he could only reach the distant Animagus part, and Elijah, the mind healer to try to weave the thread to the Pensieve through his friends. When someone asked Ginny if she was ready, Harry heard a firm yes, and his spirits rose to get to see her one last time, but though someone had said that Ginny would someday become an Animagus cat, she appeared here in her normal body, on the ground of the vision, seemingly in the middle of the fray, which touched her not at all, though she blanched seeing the image of Harry writhing under the Cruciatus Curse as the nightmares looped again and again.

Ginny held in her hand, the silver thread, which Elijah, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione and Tyler held as well. Harry could hear Ginny speak words of love and encouragement to him, though he could not hear it all, then Dumbledore spoke.

"Harry, I have always told you that putting off your memories of horrible events does not prevent it from happening and have encouraged you to deal with them when they happen, instead of sending you off into dreamless blissful sleep like I wish I could have done..." the old man reminded him, and Harry remembered Sirius gripping his shoulder in comfort as he related what had happened on the night he was now reliving. "But Harry, you have already dealt with these memories, and now, you need to let them go for a time. It is a curse Harry, that is making you relive these memories time and time again. The Dark Lord is punishing you for surviving, but you have already survived these horrible events, and now you must survive the only one that is real right now. We can help you leave these ones behind to concentrate your strength on the here and now, where I am afraid my dear one, that you lie close to death. You must reach for the string. It will bring you out of the nightmares.

Harry had gone delirious when the images even in the visions had changed. His parents had not encouraged him in this manner before, it was another of Voldemort's curses. When his parents emerged from the wand tips this time, they begged him to stay, saying they would take him with them, that he would see Sirius again. The Dark Lord lived, still powerful enough to invade his fading mind. It was Voldemort who was putting these images in Harry's exhausted mind now, though he himself lay critically wounded in a place of hiding far away.

"Harry dear, come on, come with us. It is a trick of the Dark Lord's making you think to grab that silver thread. It's a Portkey Harry, to take you back to him and no matter what you do, you can't stay here either," Lily told him, through red rimmed eyes. The dreams suddenly had colour and Harry could hear cries of protest as the Dark Lord tried to push Harry's friends from the dream by making him believe that if he took hold of the silver thread his 'friends' offered, he would be transported back to Voldemort to be finished off. Harry was confused. He felt his hands fly to his ears to try to block everyone out, friend or foe.

"Come on son," James smiled down upon the boy who had just been released from the Cruciatus Curse for the hundredth time, as his father held his hand out to help him up. Harry was tired and confused and he could no longer see his friends or the thread or hear Dumbledore's voice. He reached up to take his dad's hand as James smiled down upon him as he now remembered that face from when his dad had looked down upon in his crib to check on him as he did so often, with Lily scolding him for having woken the baby up.

"NO HARRY, I BEG YOU DON'T!" It was Ginny, and as he turned to look at her, his parents faded away as he reached for the hand that would have helped him up and away from here.

The words Harry now uttered cut Ginny to her soul, worse than the Cutting Curse or the physical being ever had. "How could you...I'm dying anyway... he said so," Harry said, tears falling from his face as he looked around for his father to take him home, only to find he was really gone and the horrific visions started again without benefit of the fake images of his loving parents to comfort him. Voldemort was too weak to project these images any longer, but he still had a hold on Harry's fading mind. Voldemort was trying to make it look like Ginny had prolonged his suffering and stolen his only opportunity to go with his mom and dad.

"Why Ginny...why?" Harry sobbed For one horrible moment, he hated her with every fibre of his being and he hated Ron, Hermione and all of them for forcing him to come back to fight. Voldemort had convinced him that he would die alone now, as Ginny begged for Harry to reach for the thread.

"Harry, please, it wasn't real...I know they would want you stay..." she pleaded, sobbing now, feeling him leave. She had doubts now if she should have let him go with the happy but false image of going with his parents as he had spoken of in his sleep at St Mungos as she watched him murmur in his fevered delirium. "Where there is life, there is hope, Harry, and your heart still beats, but it won't for much longer...please take the thread. Let us help you, please!"

Harry felt the anger was not his own, but he could not stop it, nor could he distinguish how much of it was his own and how much of it was Voldemort's as Ginny stood before him, reaching for him. For one horrible moment, she saw Harry's eyes burn red, and she became so angry, she grabbed for him, but just like the killdeer and the Griffin Harry, her hands went right through him. Then she vanished from Harry's sight, and Harry sank back to his own self as the Dark Lord's power diminished in his own agony and weakness, alone, save for the circling Grffin...Harry now existed at least in thought, on both plains, but could be reached by neither of its inhabitants, friend or foe.

Ginny, heaving with emotion, feeling that Harry hated her, though he had not spoken the words, came back to her physical being and fell into her mother's arms crying. This lasted a moment before she leaned over Harry's physical body and placed her lips to his lifeless ones. Harry was not dead, but the warmth that had always existed there for her alone, was gone.

For a moment, Harry's heart stopped, but Molly could have sworn she'd seen his arm go up as if to embrace her daughter back, but it had only been a hopeful illusion. Ginny whispered in Harry's ears so only he could hear if he was capable at this point. "I love you Harry, I need you. Please come back to me." She then retook her place in the Pensieve, thread in hand once more, taking it to Harry., who had strayed even further away.

The thread stretched thinner and thinner as the killdeer, the owl, Elijah, Tyler and Dumbledore all held it to support its progress to the waiting Pensieve, while she held the end of it out to him. Her words to his physical self, and her impassioned kiss on his physical body, finally caught up to the boy who could take no more, and he reached for the thread, but missed, looking frantically at Ginny , who was quickly fading from his eyes. The last thing he remembered was saying he was sorry for blaming her for taking his parents away, and then she smiled a sad smile and faded from his world along with Ron, Hermione, and all the others, who had worn the same sad, but satisfied smile of an end for him without pain.

A/N Okay, I broke the last chapter up into two parts just for one more juicy cliffie...grins evilly then looks apologetic...But I will post again tomorrow! I even have it translated from my handwritten version already but need to look it over for spelling and errors. Thank you so much for the reviews! My motivation was wavering as this tale comes to an end as it has been a really good run and I have enjoyed each and every review...I promise, the next chap is the last and then there's the epilogue which will be completely posted by no more than six days from now. Then, I will miss you all...until..and if you choose to read my seventh year fic, which doesn't pick up from this one, but from HBP and I promise too, that it is better than this fic. As I post the last chap and the epilogue, please pop in to say hi in a review during the next six days? It would mean so much to me and I apologize for the delay in bringing this to you. Hope it was worth the wait...


	58. An Unknown Place

Ron and Hermione had only smiled for Harry's sake for his eyes had opened one last time as he faded and he looked at peace. He had wished for one last glimpse of Ginny and it had been granted. He had not been able to grasp the thread between this life and the one that lay ahead in the next great adventure, but with his last sight being Ginny, his passing would be easier. One last time his friends were called to him in their dream animagus forms. He would see them one last time also.

The quiet respect that would mark the passing of Harry Potter was shattered when the horrible images chorused through the vibrating thread, visible now to Harry's friends through their sharp avian eyes and felt even in their human hands, so strong was the fight that had begun anew when they had come to Harry one last time. Ron and Hermione were flung backwards with the ping of the Pensieve hitting the opposite side of the tent as they fell back to their own bodies only to watch Madam Pomfry say that Harry's heart had given out finally. The relief of seeing his friend and the one who had become so much more had been a mercy, but the crash of forcing the emotions to stop so abruptly, hadn't given his heart time to slow down on it's own.

As if unable to accept this expected outcome, Dumbledore grabbed the Pensieve as Madam Pomfrey tried desperately to shock Harry's heart back to beating with an electrical charge from her wand. His body jumped on the bed violently, but his face remained placid and his heart as still as the frozen water of the lake.

"Miss Weasley, if you truly love Harry, I must ask you to think of a happy thought of the two of you right now, quickly, and place it in the Pensive," Dumbledore asked desperately, staring into Harry's open eyes which were empty and lifeless.

How could she think of something happy at a moment like this. She knew Harry hated her for taking away his one dying wish, no matter how false, how could she have been so selfish as to rob him of it?

"Miss Weasley!" Dumbledore roared at her like no one had ever heard him before. "You must do this now!" He commanded, as Molly was removed from the room for trying to stop him from yelling at her distraught daughter.

"Come on Gin, like at Harid's cottage, when we caught you..." Hermione smiled through her tears, knowing what Dumbledore meant to do, and revealing that she and Ron knew what had happened that night which had been innocent, but certainly happy.

Ginny gasped out sobs as she did her best to remember Harry's face that day, so close to hers, wanting so much to kiss him, seeing his shy smile as he thought of the same thing...their first kiss, the feeling of having to stop kissing lest they not be able to stop at all...being caught by her father as she laughed at him from the other side of the door...it all poured into the Pensieve, mixed with tears.

Harry had stopped breathing two minutes ago. Madam Pomfry had started artificial life support, but it wasn't holding. Dumbledore pulled Ginny's memory thread and placed it to Harry's temple. Harry's body jumped clear from the bed, though no shock had he received from the Matron.

As Harry felt the intrusion from his now peaceful slumber he knew too that the usual bad dreams would start again, but no, the sun was shining through a memory of a cold Fall day. He was by the lake with Ginny feeding toast to the giant squid. It was all there. Her protection, her love and more, but when he felt the fresh water from the lake hit him as the squid tossed Ginny's terrible tasting French Toast back at them, salt water landed on his lips from a fresh water lake. How was this possible? But there it was, he could taste it. Ginny stood over him, crying and pressing her lips to his for what she feared may be the last time she would taste his living lips. He could vaguely taste her tears that ran down his face as she leaned over him, and suddenly he knew. The salt water from the fresh lake was Ginny's tears.

Ginny jumped out of her skin when Harry's body heaved a huge intake of breath and fell limp in her arms instead of the rigid board like position he had been in. Madam Pomfrey had forgotten to replace the Body Bind, but as her patient's body relaxed into non movement, she felt it best not to.

Harry was unconscious, and though his friends talked to him for hours until they fell asleep or were ordered back to their own beds to heal, he could say and do nothing.

"Sleep well, my love," Ginny whispered to Harry wondering if he would wake up to be the same person she had fallen so in love with. Dumbledore explained that memories, both the good and the bad, are what shapes a person, and with these words, she went to her bed, leaving Dumbledore sitting by Harry for the remainder of the night.

A full week to the day after the battle, Harry woke to find himself in the Hospital Wing, but something was unfamiliar to him. His body was wracked in pain, which he found oddly comforting, for it meant that he was really here, and alive. He opened his eyes as a soft moan escaped his lips. It was a little disconcerting to have all these people gathered around his bed. Neville, Hermione, Luna, Ron and Ginny had scarcely left his bedside at all.

Harry thought the empty gaps in is memory were induced falsely by some sort of Calming Potion. Not all of his dark memories had been wiped clean, just those that had been tormenting him into death. It was startling to see how young he looked without these cares that now sat locked away in a Pensieve in Dumbledore's office. After Madam Pomfrey had fussed over him physically, Dumbledore had left it to Harry's friends to explain what drastic measures had been taken to save his life.

Even through the Calming Potion Madam Pomfrey had given him, everything sounded so terrible that Harry was glad the memories had been erased. He knew of the final battle already, but his face clouded as he tried to remember watching Cedric die. He could not.

Dumbledore told Ron, Hermione and Ginny to break the news of his extracted memories to him gently, but to explain that it had been necessary to do this. Ultimately it would be up to Harry to decide when and if he chose to have these memories back, for he remembered nothing of the Pensieve or of losing his memories. He knew it was bliss not to have these memories now, but as the days passed in suffering, Harry knew that he needed his memories to help him reconcile why he had to defeat the Dark Lord still. He had to remember all the terrible things Voldemort had done, so the blame could go back where it belonged.

Harry resolved to take the memories which had been purged of Voldemort's alterations back. Professor Flitwick had cleansed the memories with very complicated spells and they now sat in the Pensieve waiting on him. Harry saw the crutches placed by his bedside, and he though he did not remember the actual attack Voldemort had waged on him last summer, he did clearly remember the months of pain and agony, relearning how to walk, not being able to eat or speak, and the whole rest of this most difficult year.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny had practised with Professor McGonagall to become Animagi for the week while waiting anxiously for Harry to wake. Though McGonagall herself was an Animagi, she was not the same kind as they were, so she was not as effective at training them for the way their Animagus forms connected on different plains, and Ginny's cat remained elusive so far. They promised to be with Harry if they could as he received his worst memories back.

Harry lay next to the table which the Pensieve stood upon like an enemy waiting to pounce. As soon as the transfer of his memorie began, he felt his wings unfold from his side as the owl and the killdeer hovered above his form in the bed, eyes closed and unmoving. He was spared the feeling of getting the memories all back at once this way as Ron and Ginny deflected and ordered them into his mind one by one.

Ginny had not been able to join in this time, but something more miraculous to Harry even than that, was the fact that he could feel her hand in his even before the three of them came back to their bodies. He couldn't hide his tears when he opened his eyes even if he'd wanted to. To have these painful memories back wasn't like the horrible images playing on him from the vicious curse, but the dark dull pain that was ever present in his soul, had come back with an added memory he definitely didn't want, although it cleared in his present mind like it had not in his terrified dying thoughts.

But yet something was terribly wrong. Harry saw his parents again, James outstretched hand to him, only now he could plainly see that this was not his father at all, but an image of the Dark Lord himself and he heard himself tell Ginny he hated her for taking them away in his reclaimed memory. Had he really uttered those words, even under control of the Dark Lord?

Harry's hand suddenly shot to his mouth as if he had just spoken the words out loud again, but he knew by the looks on his friend's faces, that he had done no such thing. Ginny would take it to her grave to spare his feeling as she lied and told him he hadn't really said it. As far as she was concerned, the Dark Lord had forced him to utter those crushing words. He would never forgive himself for telling her such a thing, and to never miss the opportunity again, he professed to her. "Ginny, I love you, you know that don't you?"

"Of course I do Harry...I love you too," she placed a finger on his lips to silence his sobs and said, "Sh...it's alright now, for now. We have to take what we can get and live each day to it's fullest.

Harry didn't care that his almost healed legs were now shattered again, or that he would face many more months in the hospital. She loved him...Ron's little sister loved him.

Another week had gone by and Dumbledore had strode into the Hospital Wing bearing neatly wrapped packages for each of them. They were not gifts, he explained, but the contents of the time capsule which each of them had placed in to be opened in the future. The time capsule had exploded when the Great Hall had nearly been levelled, spilling the contents of the box into the sky to be collected lovingly by Professor Flitwick sometime that week. Dumbledore chose to let each student decide once again if they wanted to contribute to a new time capsule which would lie under the foundation of the corner stone of the new Great Hall.

Professor Sprout had used rooting solution on the tiny twigs that remained of the trees that had been planted to mark the occasion that October during Family Week and tiny little shoots had already begun to sprout from the twigs that remained.

Harry held the lumpy package in his trembling hands and taking a deep breath, he gave it to Ginny, asking her to open it. It was hers.

Ginny opened the letter that accompanied the strange package first and read it, though her hands trembled terribly as she did so.

My dearest Ginny

If you are reading this instead of me, then I am most likely dead. Since I don't know when it happened, but have a pretty good idea of how, I hope I at least that I helped in some way. I tried Gin, I really did. You know that don't you?

I want you to know that before the end of my life, I started living for you, for your touch and your kiss...and again, not knowing but hoping we got further then that, I lived for the time when we would be ready for that next step. If I died before I got the chance to be intimate with you, then I died with the greatest anticipation, knowing that it would be the best moment of my life.

Ginny blushed through her tears. If Harry was letting her read this now, he wanted a future with her. He wanted to live with and for her and his friends. He blushed too, remembering what he had written, because it had before they discussed limitations for their physical relationship. Ginny continued to read.

Your love and that of Ron and all your family, taking me in, made my life bearable through it all. Please make sure your mum and dad and brothers know that, and Ron, if this letter was written after Ginny and I...you know...I'M SORRY! Harry had written cheekily, causing Ron to look at him funny as Ginny giggled at this part, reading aloud and looking at her brother with love in her eyes. She went on aloud.

I know I'm being foolish, because I know I probably don't have much time left in reality, but even Dumbledore said he doesn't know when it will happen and who will win, but I hope I married you Gin. I tried not to fall in love with and leave you a widow, and I'm sorry if I did, but if there is another part of life, I will always wait for you. Live your life though Gin, and try not to be too sad, especially if I won...what a rush that would be to have lived through to see the end with you!

It's too hard to write this, when it will not be able to updated once it's sealed in the time capsule, so I don't even know where I'm coming from in my life in this letter, but then again, do I ever know? Ginny laughed as a magically drawn little Harry shrugged his shoulders up and down to make her smile.

I have a hard time trusting love, but you know why, so if ever I was unkind to you or tried to push you away, like I know I've done in the past and hope I never do again, I'm so sorry...Please tell Ron and my sweet Hermione that because Lord knows I've done that to them on times out of count before I ever wrote this, but you are new as I write this and I don't know where we're headed, but I can hope and dream. Sirius told me that, and though I tried not to, once you kissed me, I was done for.

Do you know, Ginny, that I had a dream that we had eight boys and one little beautiful baby girl? I swear Gin, she looked so much like you...and my mom, and I regret to inform you...God, I hope you're not standing here at a reunion with your husband or something...that our daughter has my hair! You are going to have to take a hairdressing course to tame it.

I'm sorry if this upsets you, or angers someone you now care for in a special way that you once did for me, but I hope you still love me. I just wanted to tell you all the things I was too afraid to hope out loud, knowing my future. I was afraid that if I said it out loud, it wouldn't come true. So few of my dreams ever work out. So this was my chance to be a coward and still tell you all I ever wanted you to know as fact.

I love you Gin. I can't bear to write another letter for Ron and Hermione who, nudge nudge wink wink, I hope you have kids by now, twins, just like Fred and George. That'll keep you busy.

Madam Pomfrey just gave me my Sleeping Potion as I finish this letter that I started after we returned from Mrs Figg's. I couldn't drop it into the box and I missed the deadline. Dumbledore knew how mixed up I was at the time, trying to walk again, to find my place again,so he magiced this letter into the box when I was ready as I ever would be to take this step.

Do you remember when you said at Mrs Figg's? (I feel like a fool for asking this, of course you won't) that you said you wanted one of the 'candy dishes' I made when I was five? Here...

The pause in the letter was palpable now as Ginny turned the package delicately extracting the little covered box with Harry's baby small hand prints in the clay. She choked back a sob as she looked at Harry, whose eyes were shining too. She could not believe that he had let her read this in front of his friends while he still drew breath.

Harry took the package from her, and for a moment, Ginny thought that she would be deprived of the rest of the letter. Harry opened the box and tipped a gold diamond and emerald ring into his palm. He was loathe to ask for help, but Neville and Ron stood on either side of him as he got up against the wishes of Madam Pomfrey. He could not kneel down, so he sat on the edge of his bed, taking Ginny's hand in his trembling ones, looked her right in the eyes and asked. "Will you do me the honour of marrying me?"

Harry's heart beat rapidly, threatening to summon the Matron, who had a Monitoring Charm on his bed at all times. Ginny did not make him wait, but it felt like an eternity before she answered.

"Yes, Harry, I will marry you." Then she added, "I promise," knowing he need the extra confirmation, he smiled for the first time in weeks, though tears hung on his long lashes. The friends left them alone for a few minutes and when they came back in, were surprised to find out that Harry and Ginny planned to wed as soon as possible, parent permission of course. Secretly, they had planned on waiting to consumate the marriage until they were older and Ginny was finished school, but Harry could cross one thing off his list of things he longed to have before he died. Ginny as his wife. Ginny was secure in Harry's love. He was not doing this early for any other reason than his undying love for her, and she for hers.

They agreed together among themselves and their close circle of friends, that Ginny would wear the ring on her right hand until things cleared up somewhat around the Hospital Wing and they could announce the engagement in a respectful way. The secret engagement was thrilling to both of them, and for now, it clouded the fact that Harry didn't have any parents to inform anyway. They estimated another three weeks before it would be clear to announce the plans.

Now, it was time for Ginny to finish the letter.

The ring is for you, Gin, in case you didn't get one from me before I died. I think you know what it is, but if you already have one from me, and I hope you do, even if you've placed it in a safe place in order for you wear another guys ring if I'm dead...gulp! No, can't think of that. It's for you to wear on your left right if you already have someone, to remember that I have always loved you, or if you're still single you can wear it your wedding finger to make annoying guys hit the road! If I'm a ghost, I'll punch them for you...ha ha,' Harry had written lamely, causing Ginny to laugh as she pictured this.

The next part of the heart wrenching letter made them all stop in moment of silence.

I know you dated Michael Corner for a time, and I never really did think he was right for you, but it's not for me to choose, so let Ron do it if I'm gone...just kidding, don't be too hard on me, I'm dead after all!

This last part had been meant to be funny, but now that Michael Corner was dead, it wasn't, maybe it would have been if the letter had been opened in the future when the pain was not so near from the loss of so many DA members and fellow students. Harry had forgotten he'd written that part, but one cannot take back their true feelings and Harry knew better then anyone now, that you cannot change the past, only the future.

In closing, love of my life, I wanted to let you know that this ring was my mother's. It was in Gringotts with the gold they had left for me. Gin, I understand if you don't want it, but I had to write this letter in case you did. I couldn't leave this world with you not knowing how I feel about you, even if you no longer feel the same way. If you don't want it. I ask only that you give it to your daughter if you have one, because if you don't want it, I know we never married and I was never a father, so please allow me the honour to be an uncle...I'll never be a real one if this is the case, but I know you loved me once, and I need to know that my mother's ring will be with someone who knows of me, in a family who loved me.

I am so sorry Gin, to leave you with all of this, but know I want you to smile and be happy. And make sure Ron and Hermione name their first born Harry, even if she's a girl...Hermione'll go mad! You know, she'd probably do it...this being a last request and all.

At his Hermione punched Harry on the arm while Ron sat blushing thinking of children with Hermione and Ginny finished reading the letter.

In deepest Love,Harry

P.S. IF you don't want the 'candy dish' please give it to your mom. I know she wanted one too. I don't know what else to say.

And the letter ended there.

There were tears and congratulations all around as Ginny pretended to give Harry trouble.

"Prat, how could I not want it? I've only been in love with you since I was twelve years old!" she scolded through tears.

Harry needed the game of chess he had just started with Ron, who was to be best man. For his part, he had given his approval to the marriage. There were more hurdles to jump and they would cross them as they came.

A/N Life is my only excuse for the delay in this chapter. You have been most patient and kind and thank you so much for all the emails prodding me to finish. The epilogue will be up in days and I am both happy and sad to be finished. This was my first story I ever wrote and I'm told I've improved since it was finished two years ago. I hope that's true because I will be posting a hundred page seventh year post HBP story leading from where that one ends very soon and I'm excited because unlike this fic, I have now grown and learned so much from other wonderful fanfic writers about proper pov changes and grammar and the like that when I wrote this fic, had unfortunately escaped me as school for me was twenty years ago. But hooray, in the new fic I have learned that writing is like riding a bicycle, you never really forget and if you're humble enough to accept critsism, you just may learn something. Your positive reviews and points of direction have both helped me to improve and one day, even this story will be put up fully beta read instead of the form you have endured and gone through with me as I relearned skills I had lost while in the work world and then when having my family and being too busy to be writing anything for so very long.

My son goes to school now full days now and I miss him very much but I do get more time to write now. But yay! It is time to pick him up for lunch and a good snuggle. Thanks again!


	59. Save By The Enemy

Well guys, this is the end. This entire story was written over three years ago before I learned some things about writing so to be honest, that's why it's taken so long for me to put it up. You see, this story was my first and is full of the errors of a new writer. I had no idea when I first started this story that points of view of a character must remain the same in a paragraph. My grammar was poor and I flip from style to style during the whole book. But at least I finished it ...

I hope you will stick around for when I post my short seventh year fic and I hope you will find that I have improved since I wrote this story. Having said that, I can't tell you all how much I have appreciated your support in writing to me to put up my last chapter. Some of you even personally emailed me and encouraged me in my writing. Because of you, I have started an original novel all of my own and it's going well so far. Thanks everyone, especially the Black Sheep and Melinda. Thanks! Dianne

When Harry was finally allowed to dress and leave his bed, he limped to the doorway of his rebuilt room to see Fred whistling as was preparing to leave the hospital wing for the first time himself. Madam Pomfrey was giving him the once- over like she had done to Harry many times out of count. Harry watched in silence as Fred's long hair brushed across the back of his neck, revealing a nasty unhealed cut at the base of his skull. Madame Pomfrey let out an audible breath, asking Fred just why it was he hadn't mentioned this injury before. She ordered him back to his bed and went in search of Dumbledore, who was extremely busy. She had seen wounds like this before.

It wasn't long before all hell was breaking loose, replacing the sad, placid calm that had taken over the hospital wing since the last person had died over a week ago and no more deaths were expected. Lupin walked in looking ashen faced, followed by Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Mr and Mrs Weasley. Fred had once again buttoned his shirt, making ready to leave, feeling the Matron was fussing unnecessarily. The Matron had summoned George to come back to the hospital wing at once as well. He arrived in minutes, Angelina who had just returned from St Mungos, sight mercifully intact, at his side.

Fred was now visibly agitated and George coaxed him to do as the Matron asked in an uncanny and unintentional imitation of their mother.

"What for? What's this all about?" Fred asked, looking aggravated and scared for reasons Harry did not understand. Lupin looked like he was going to faint. He muttered something about hopes that things did not turn out as they had when he was a child.

Fred finally complied and removed his shirt, holding up his long red hair to reveal the gash. George gasped uncharacteristically. Lupin had broken Fred's skin when he had saved him from the fall into the tunnel back in the Shrieking Shack! Lupin fell to the floor, unable to look at them. He had sentenced an innocent young man to a lifetime of hell. Better he had died, Lupin thought desperately. Better I die before I take someone else's life. Werewolves don't make good pets, he thought, remembering Snape's warning to the Marauders when he found out what they had been doing. Snape did not learn of the Animagi until recently, but he had seen their fascination in the boy who was conveniently ill at full moons or tending to a sick relative.

Not even George knew what to say to his brother, as he was forced to submit to inspection for similar marks on his body. Mercifully, there were none.

"I'm not a werewolf, don't be ridiculous," Fred said, wide- eyed, putting his shirt back on after Madam Pomfrey let him up out a full body bind, as he stuggled against her bandaging up the site. I don't feel any different ... I'm not sick ... Moony ... how are you supposed to feel when you're a ..." He was clearly in shock. Lupin looked at Fred as he was helped to his feet, but all Lupin could say over and over again, was how sorry he was.

"Moony!" Fred shouted after the Professor. He did not blame Lupin, but he was terrified. He needed to know how he was supposed to feel if indeed he would transform in two weeks. Shouldn't he feel something?

When everyone had been informed of Fred's condition, the mood dropped again to say the least. Fred woke up after being forced to take strong sleeping and calming potion to find that he had been shackled to his bed. Newly infected persons typically went through stages much like in death, denial, anger, bargaining and finally, hopefully for some, acceptance. It was not a death sentence, but to Fred, it might as well be one. Their shop catered to children. Who would let their children shop at a store run by a werewolf?

"George, I've drawn up a new deed for the shops. They're yours now. Maybe Ron'll come in with you," Fred said despondently. He would not ruin his brother's life.

George tore up the papers angrily throwing them into the air in a fireball. "Let's get one thing straight, little brother..." This caused the corners of Fred's lips to curl into an almost smile. They were mere minutes apart in birth. "Lupin can't face you right now. He wanted to die, but I made him promise to train me to become an Animagus so I can run with you. We are in this together, and there is the chance that the bite didn't penetrate your robes, preventing saliva from entering your body. If that's the case, you're not a ... infected." To say the word werewolf was to make it too real right now.

"How is he?" Fred asked of Lupin, sincere in his concern. Lupin had been amazed and confused that Fred had not yelled at him, had not blamed him.

"He's pretty messed up," George sighed. He doesn't know it, but the headmaster has had a tracking charm placed on him, he's so worried about his mental state. He's made Remus promise to try another session of research into the Wolfsbane and Polyjuice Potion, this time mixed with a Calming draft. He's agreed if only to help you. For himself he's given up. Won't even see Tonks."

The two weeks preceding the full moon past in forced calm. The castle's restoration was complete and all of the funerals were over weeks ago. Aurors had information that Voldemort was somewhere Romania, and Molly had ordered Charlie back home to a desk job and to be near for his brother, who was facing the toughest time of his life.

Harry and Ginny were ushered out of the hospital wing entirely with everyone else. Ron held Ginny's hand and his other arm was draped around Hermione' shoulders for support as they looked out the window to see the sun disappear. One could have heard a pin drop for the silence, waiting to hear something, anything. Remus was inside, under the effects of Wolfbane and Polyjuice and calming solution. Poor Fred had been given a small dose of calming potion, but nothing else. If he was infected, they wanted to know right away.

George stood, face pressed to the window, as Harry placed his hand on his back, and the much taller boy dissolved into tears he would never let his twin see. Harry knew there was nothing he could say, so he just held onto George until his shoulders stopped shaking uncontrollably and they broke apart without a word, George placing his head against the cold glass to calm the raging headache he'd gotten.

To be safe, transformation or not, Fred would be monitored all night. When the moon came up and he did not change, he let out a whoop of joy. It had been heard outside, and Ginny, Ron and George in their states of anxiety could not distinguish it from a howl, but Hermione could, though she did not want to fill them false hope if she was wrong. Better they thought the worst, and found out the best, than to think it was over only to find out it had only begun.

Harry was angry when Madam Pomfrey insisted that he go to bed and forced a sleeping potion on him, stating that he was not ready for this excitement and anxiety. Would he ever be? Were any of them? At least this one action gave Ginny something to focus on as she prepared his bed and got him a drink of water he hadn't asked for. It was she who gave him his potions and wouldn't let him fake taking the sleeping one. It gave her a sense of purpose and if he could do this much for her, even though he felt it unnecessary, than he would.

Harry woke to find a sort of party going on. Fred and George stood beside his bed, both looking a little worse for the wear, especially Fred from no sleep for the better part of two weeks. The bite had been from above the robe, and no saliva had been in the wound. Harry sank back onto his pillows, still feeling very tired, watching his fiancee ... that word sounded nice, hug her brothers and parents in celebration. He rose quietly from his bed to creep into the hospital ward where Lupin remained shackled to his bed, but unchanged, nor did he look like he transformed this night. He did not have the same pallor he usually wore after a painful change from human to wolf and back. The treatment had worked! He was not cured, but he would begin as normal a life as he would likely ever get.

Harry hugged Remus so tightly, the shackled man felt he would break from emotion. Through tears, Remus promised him he would do something about Harry's living arrangements for the summer. He would not return to Grimmauld Place. He was not Sirius or his parents, but Harry was happy for the prospects of one summer of freedom from the Dursleys before he would be of age to make his own decisions. There was also the fact that Harry would not be healed sufficiently for his release from special medical care by the end of the school year. The Dursleys would certainly not nurse him back to health. Remus promised him something would work out.

Harry gathered his crutches to leave when Tonks, wearing chestnut brown, shoulder length hair in a hair band and plain faded jeans with a blue tee shirt, stood at the door. She asked permission to enter. Lupin looked like he wanted to cry. He hadn't expected to see her again. He, like Harry had tried to push her away for her own good, but sometimes, Harry now knew, you have to let other's decide what is right for them. Tonks knew what he was, and she wanted and loved him. Harry smiled as he closed the door. They were mended as a couple faster than anything Harry had seen. Ron and Hermione had spent weeks mad at each other over the silliest things, but it seemed the more serious the problem, if two people loved each other, they would find a way.

As the friends sat in the waiting area of the hospital wing, Luna and Neville joined them. For awhile, everyone relished in each other's company, just glad that they had survived. Neville was the first one to speak of what had befallen their friends and fellow DA members. Harry hung his head as Ginny squeezed his hand in comfort. There would be a moment of silence at the next DA meeting for their fallen. It had been decided that the DA would go on, now more important than ever. Harry hoped he'd never have to rally them to action again when Neville spoke of Justin-Finch-Fletchley having fallen in battle.

Neville's voice became quieter as he told them that he had been to St Mungos to see his parents for the first time since they had started their experimental medicine. He had been forbidden by Gran to tell them about his having killed the evil Death Eater who had stolen their lives, but when she had stepped out to get some tea, Neville couldn't help it. He could have sworn that his father had smiled, thought he said nothing. His mother had given him a warm embrace which Neville had sunk into gratefully. It was more than he had in his whole life and he didn't know if they had understood that Bellatrix Lestrange was dead, but he felt better for having told them. Neville almost laughed out loud, remembering how his mother had blown a huge bubble from the wad of Droobles Best Blowing Gum in her mouth and he had followed suit ending up with it in his hair. His mother had gone to get the day nurse to help him get the gum out, one of the first lucid things Neville had ever seen her do, although it was embarrassing. For a change, it was he who had brought his mother a boxful of Droobles and his heart skipped a beat to hear her first spoken words to him. "Thank you,' as she held his hands to her cheeks and Neville had felt a tear drop onto them. It would be a long time before he would know if he would ever get more than this, but for now, this was gold. He hugged his still mute father, but received a warm hug in return.

Harry was happy for Neville. He knew now, looking around the room that he had his brothers and his fiancee, and the most loyal friends a person would ever have. Luna was going to spend a part of the summer with Neville and Gran for Neville's parents first ever out of hospital visit. She had spent the better part of the week passing it in worry with the rest of them, while making soft cushions for every corner in Gran's house that could be sharp, lest Frank or Alice fell. She was a strange girl, but Neville loved her concern for him and his family, and it did endear her more to all of them.

Fred was monitored for several more days along with Lupin as a precaution and when the group of friends were celebrating his good health, Dumbledore came to see them with some welcome news. Professor Lupin had proposed to Tonks and planned to hold a wedding at Grimmauld Place in a week's time. The headmaster felt sure that security would still be a risk, but Voldemort hadn't shown any activity at all since the final assault on Harry's mind.

Classes had not started back up as May approached. Most students were making extra credit helping teachers rebuild parts of the castle. Harry looked up toward the new Divination tower with some trepidation. It was there that he had heard the fateful words from the now gone Professor Trelawny about the dark lord's return to a living body, a body that as he stood gazing with his new eyes at the tower, suffered hideous amounts or torment from his injuries, and his overuse of strength to torment Harry's mind to make a last point.

When everyone had bid him goodnight in his room in the hospital wing where once again he had taken up residence, much to his annoyance, he got a very bright or a very stupid idea. He lay, doing the opposite of what he had been taught in Occlumency. He actively sought out his nemesis, relying on the Order's information that the dark lord was himself recovering from severe trauma to his body.

Harry gasped as the all too familiar voice came to his thoughts, but not as they had before. There was no dire pain, no hold anymore. It was like a telephone that he could hang up at any moment, but a part of him had to know. Could he now do to Voldemort what Voldemort had done to him? Harry had been resting and being healed daily since the attacks, but so struck on the kill was the dark lord that he had not thought to seek out healers, so assure of himself of victory he had accepted into his fold only those most bent on serving him and those able to prove themselves ruthless. The hypocratic oath mediwizards took was far more serious than Muggle ones, so no registered mediwizard would willingly heal so foul a murderer.

At first, the dark lord did not know Harry was there in his tormented mind, and Harry watched through the red slit pupils as Severus Snape bent before the dark lord to give him potions to help him come back to full health, but he only had regular potions. The dark lord would still have as long or longer than Harry now faced in recuperative time. Not only had the potions professor managed to somehow avoid being labelled as traitor, he had been enlisted to 'do what he could for the dark lord,' and if that included kidnapping a mediwizard to help heal the sinister beast than so be it. The fact was, that Voldemort still possessed most of his immortality, Harry being the only one to even puncture it, it seemed, and it was this that he sought to do now.

Harry watched Snape's eyes fly open wide with surprise as he launched a mind attack on the weak lord. He could hear Voldemort cry out in agony as he flew a telepathic Cruciatus Curse on him. Voldemort writhed on his velvet bed as Snape did nothing to ease him, reasoning that he would not remember it. Voldemort, usually so hard to lie to, had become somewhat more dependent on his lesser servants of late, making him miss his Wormtail more than he could have thought possible. Snape's many potions, presented as gifts to the dark lord, were all tested by a fellow Death Eater before he could even administer them. Dumbledore had reasoned that Voldemort might as well be healed by someone who could report his returning strength to allow for preparations to fight him upon his return. Whatever immortality he had was unwavering and only Harry would be able to undo the evil.

As Harry felt his own body weaken from the curse he had just done, the dark lord was able to make a feeble attempt at retaliation. Harry heard Voldemort rasp into his mind. "Potter, I see you and I will have much more fun when next we should meet." Harry tried, but failed in his weakened state to repeat the curse as Voldemort said, "Say hello to your fiancee, or has the happy nuptuals taken place already?"

Harry was cold with fury as he tried desperately to torture that hated soul into oblivian. He knew it may be the last thing he ever did, but he cried out so loud it could be heard echoing through the hospital wing and down the stairs as he tried to level the killing curse at the dark lord once and for all. No more games. Snape's eyes swam into focus. He was yelling, "Potter NO!" How Harry hated that man. He knew it was he who had shoved him from Voldemort's mind before he was done, as Voldemort lie twitching, looking near death. Harry's last memory was of looking into Snape's black eyes, cold with fury as he felt himself pushed so hard his head was smothered into the pillows on the bed.

Harry woke up three days later. He had never had a headache in his whole life like he had right now, but through it all, he smiled. He had hurt him, and the next time he would do worse. And Snape would pay. The figure sitting by his bedside came into focus. The headmaster had barely left his side.

"How do you feel?" was all Dumbledore said.

"Sore," was all Harry could reply. He knew what was coming, or at least he thought he did.

"That was a very brave, very foolish thing you did, Harry."

Harry was about to say something very childish, like 'he started it,' but stopped himself before the words could make their way out, as he remembered Snape. Snape had saved him. Snape had fought Harry off deliberately.

"I would have killed him, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, sitting bolt upright. "If it wasn't for Snape and when I get my hands on him..." Harry said angrily.

But Harry was made more angry at the headmaster than even Snape when the next words he heard were, "Harry, why do you think we tried to protect you so much from Voldemort all year? Because you weren't ready," Dumbledore asked than answered for Harry.

"I was ready. I was killing him ..." Harry said, although now he remembered the bead of green light that had formed between he and the dark lord that he had not seen when his mind attack on the dark lord was really taking place, so focused was he on the task at hand.

"No, Harry that's where you were wrong. While I believe that you were ready to use the killing curse, and that you indeed meant it this time, you were not yet strong enough to make it work. It would have consumed you as you focused on it. Professor Snape used his legillimancy skills to save you ... to break your connection to the dark lord. He was barely able to convince the dark lord that he did it to save him, and he was punished severally." The headmaster opened Harry's door to reveal Snape now lying in a hospital bed. He looked awful. "The torture almost broke his mind. Voldemort had his followers leave him by the gates where Hagrid found him and brought him to Poppy. I daresay though , that in his zest for revenge, Voldemort has futher weakened himself. Even Death Eater activity has all but ceased for the time being. For how long, we do not know, but I must have your word Harry."

Dumbledore had not let Harry get a word in edgewise, and now, he wasn't sure if he wanted one. Snape's face had not betrayed any traitorous qualities to him. Maybe Dumbledore was wrong. Maybe Snape had saved his lord, maybe he had saved Harry. No one would ever know.

Harry had to promise not to go looking for Voldemort, and to stop, with force, any mind attack if he could. Plans were being made, that the old man did not want Voldemort to learn of any sooner than he had to.

The day of Lupin's wedding to Tonks was a beautiful spring day in May. Hermione had persuaded the Metamorphamagus to be herself, if only for this one day. She was a beautiful girl with shiny black hair like Sirius had had in Harry's parents wedding picture, and Hermione had also seen to it that Tonks wore white wedding robes.

Harry was best man for them and he smiled at Ginny who sat with family in the front row. Tonks had joked to a very embarrassed Kinglsley Shaklebolt that if he were a woman, he could have been matron of honour, as he had been one of Tonks's closest friends. As it was, Elijah's wife, Terrace had filled the role, having gotten rather close to Tonks in the years that had followed the revelation of the Fifth House lost inhabitants. Terrace was also a mind healer and had assisted Tonks in getting over her self doubt after the attack at St Mungos when she had been in charge.

Lupin was more emotional than Tonks while the exchange of vows performed by Dumbledore took place. There was laughter in the beautifully decorated parlour of Grimmauld Place when Harry was supposed to say something and didn't because he'd been so busy staring at Ginny, who was prodding him to speak. When the vows had been exchanged, the couple kissed. It was the happiest day of their lives.

Harry asked Ginny to dance, mostly so they could talk among the large gathering.

"Harry, a word if you will," came Arthur Weasley's voice from behind him with a tap on the shoulder. Mr Weasley had a concerned expression on his face as he led Harry to the kitchen, where to his surprise and a little bit of discomfort, sat all of Ginny's brothers, minus Percy. They looked friendly enough, but Harry could almost tell what was coming next.

Bill stood and poured Harry some firewhisky, and the Weasley men all stood, and raised their glass to him. That was the best part. What came next had the potential to break his heart or raise his spirits, depending on how he saw it.

'Harry, first of all, let me remind you how happy we are to have you as part of our family. Molly has brought to our attention a ring that our Ginny has been wearing for the past four weeks, and we would like to know your intentions toward our daughter," Mr Weasley told him as Charlie piped in, 'and sister.'

Harry's heart sank. He had expected to hear, 'you aren't ready for marriage,' and he wasn't wrong. Mr Weasley had proclaimed his doom with certainty while at the same time trying to console him that he was only trying to rush things because of the prophecy but that things would be that much sweeter in marriage from the victorious side of things, not under impending doom.

The emotion that found its way from the very depths of Harry's soul, touched Arthur, as he poured out his every thought about his daughter from the time when he had found her to be Ron's little sister, to a girl with a crush, to a time when he didn't know what to think as she dated other boys, to helping him through some of the worst times in his life, to saving his life and everything in between. George laughed when Harry even assured Mr Weasley that he and Ginny had made a pact to wait until they were older for certain things.

For Ron's part, he had approved from the beginning, especially as he remembered with a shudder, Voldemort promising Ginny to the greasy potions master, Snape. Neville and Luna could barely hold him back from attacking even in his weakened state. They had saved each other's lives more times than even Mr Weasley had known of. As Arthur looked into Harry's sincere, earnest face, he knew that no matter what he and Molly thought of their age, they were already inextricably linked for life, or death, whatever would come to the boy, and as to his daughter, Mr Weasley could not even think that far. If Harry died, he realized, his daughter's heart would be broken anyway, and no matter what battle, his daughter and indeed all of his sons would be right there beside Harry anyway.

Mrs Weasley entered the room with a soft knock and embraced Harry warmly. She informed Arthur that she had spoken to Ginny and as the two parents talked, Remus came into the room holding hands with his new bride, who stated that perhaps she did not belong in this conversation. Remus just smiled at her and held her hand all the tighter.

To Harry's surprise, this had been some kind of test and he wasn't sure if he liked it, but he'd had no choice. Arthur and Molly were now comparing answers to the exact questions they had asked of Ginny. Remus embraced Harry and the Weasleys informed Harry that he and Ginny were compatible. He could have told them that, but as it turned out, this was a test that had been approved by the headmaster and parents. They did not want to see them marry so young, but they had passed the test. Ginny entered to find a very confused Harry standing looking at everyone, like he'd just been put through the ringer. The Weasleys had signed a document giving consent for the marriage to take place and again, Harry looked around. He knew he was also underage and would need consent, but the Dursleys would never give it and he knew it.

Remus cleared his throat on what was the happiest day of his life for two reasons. On this day only a month ago, he would have been a werewolfe. Now, here he stood, beside his bride, a man. Also, Dumbledore had papers in his hands, naming Remus Lupin as Harry's guardian. It would be the second legal docuement Lupin would sign this day and tears formed in both he and Harry's eyes as they both signed it. Than Remus signed a parental permission form for underage marriage in special circumstances and Harry read with amusement and trepidation the reason listed on his form. 'Probable short life expectancy.' It was very blunt to put it mildly, but the ministry would not sanction the marriage if not for dire purposes, so Harry signed it, pushing it away from him as he had done so. Dumbledore signed it as well and made to send it off with Hedwig.

"Please, sir, can she stay? I don't want her to miss this. Harry felt very presumptuous in not having asked Ginny if she had wanted to marry this day. He turned to her with a questioning look.

When Ginny said no, Harry felt like someone had punctured his very heart, but she assured him she only needed two days. It was the longest two days of his life.

The first day, saw the twins setting up glasses on the bar with Mrs Weasley warning them not to get Harry drunk. Of course they disregarded her completely. Ginny and Hermione were out shopping with Tonks and Terrace, while Remus grumbled good naturdly about her shopping on their honeymoon.

They did get Harry drunk, very drunk, and they had each read the riot act to him as to his promise that the wedding was a symbol of their love and the showing of this love would wait. He knew it would be hard, but he loved her and he respected her. He wanted what was best for them both. Actually, he knew life wouldn't change that much. They would live apart much of the summer as always, she at the Burrow and he at Grimmauld with Lupin. No one had explained yet how they'd manage that, but he knew he'd find out sooner or later, he always did.

Ginny nursed Harry through his hangover and Hermione although not a fan of over-drinking, did the same for Ron

The following day, Harry stood nervously in front of the sun streaked window. In honour of his mother's Muggle background, Ginny had decided to wear a traditional white Muggle wedding gown. Remus and Hagrid stood shoulder to waist at the front of the aisle that Hermione had decorated with Lilys. Hagrid blew his nose loudly on a handkerchief and dabbed at this eyes, as Madam Maxime looked on. The nerves on Harry's part were not about his commitment, but only about being in front of so many people. He had never been so sure of anything in his whole life.

As Harry glanced around the audience, he saw to his extreme displeasure the equally displeased Dursleys, except Dudley, who sat making eye contact with Lavender Brown, who had been invited as a member of the DA. Most of the old DA members were on hand for the happy day.

Harry was only nearing seventeen, and Ginny nearing sixteen, they were too young to marry, but there are things that make a person grow up faster than normal and near death experiences can do that to a person. Ginny wore a stunning tiara in her hair and a beautiful dress fit for a princess, Harry thought. When she stopped at the end of the aisle to climb onto the little platform, her parents kissed her and answered Dumbledore's question of who would consent to give this child away, but in answer to this, both Weasley's answered rather that they did not consent to give away their daughter but rather that they would take Harry to be their son and hold them both dear and near. It was better than Harry could have hoped it would be as Remus, voice cracking with emotion as the word, 'son' escaped his lips, vowed the same thing.

Ginny stepped up to be beside Harry as Ron and Hermione stood beside them and Ron couldn't help but think that one day, Harry and Ginny would be doing the same for them. As the vows were finished, Ginny slipped a letter into Harry's hands. It was the very one that Harry had placed in the time capsule. Harry saw, with tears in his eyes, that she had written something extra on it. She took it back from him and read it to the witnesses.

"So there can be no doubt, I Ginevra Weasley married Harry James Potter, May first... Come what may, a love that is as strong as the love I hold in my heart for him, cannot be burned out by even the darkest of wizards. I will not vow until death do us part, because death cannot break love, nothing can, for the one's we love never truly leave us."

These simple vows from his love, alleviated what Harry had been feeling throughout the ceremony, his guilt. Guilt that he would leave her in death, but her words, those of Sirius, washed over him with relief and happiness.

Harry had prepared no speeches, nor was he able to barely choke out his vows, so touched by her sincerity. For the rest of the evening there would be food, dancing and merriment. Hagrid had hugged them both so tightly, they felt they would be melted together.

As they opened their gifts, though they would not be a traditional married couple, Fred and George had managed to find a way to inject some humour, by presenting the couple with new pots and pans which were bewitched to say things like, when in doubt, order take out!

If anticlimactic could be used to describe the conclusion of the night, Harry felt that would be a little harsh. He and Ginny would spend the rest of the evening getting caught kissing, he telling her how beautiful she was, she telling him how handsome he was, and through it all, they knew they would separate for the night, and for many more to come, but they were married. Harry had done one of the things he had set his sights on. He and Ginny planned to pass the time looking for a home that would be theirs in two years time, purchase and spend all their spare time fixing it up just right for the real honeymoon they both so looked forward to.

Harry lay alone in his bed that night looking out the window, and for some reason, the dog star, Sirius was bright tonight, like Sirius had been there, which felt so right to Harry.

Harry thought of all the things he had, friends, family, a wife, all the good things in life, and somewhere off far away, Voldemort couldn't touch it for now. The war would continue as Harry knew it would, but for now, he had been saved.


End file.
